


This Is Just A Bad Thing

by Araes (AlastorGrim)



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Belts, Bottom Dib (Invader Zim), Daddy Kink, Dib Has Daddy Issues, Frottage, Gags, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, It...Doesn't Go Well, Multi, PMaDR, Professor Membrane Tries To Dad, Smut, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, This Is Just...Bad, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism, Why Did I Write This?, no actual rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlastorGrim/pseuds/Araes
Summary: Professor Membrane is never home, until he is.In which Dib has daddy issues and the Prof. doesn't like how he deals with them.
Relationships: Dib & Professor Membrane, Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib (Invader Zim)/Original Male Character(s), Dib/Professor Membrane
Comments: 28
Kudos: 70





	1. Caught Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Ethan. Bitch.
> 
> I have no excuse for this. This was supposed to be crack and now it's not. All I can say now is: READ 👏 THE 👏 TAGS 👏

There were signs beforehand. Of course there were. But Professor Membrane didn't notice them because he was never in a position to do so. He was never in a position to simply watch and observe his son's behavior unless said son was strapped to an examination table. And most of those, Dib didn't remember.

But, he found that he was getting the chance to observe now. 

Professor Membrane had arrived at home earlier that day to finish working on that automation robot for Gaz's next band concert. (What he didn't know was that the band concert had occurred several months before, and the drummer had incurred Gaz's wrath so fiercely that he was hospitalized and the band was dispersed altogether. But then again, Professor Membrane also hadn't been home in almost nine months. Of course he wouldn't know that.)

He came home when he knew that Gaz would be off on her internship at the Labs, so she wouldn't know he was working to surprise her. Dib should have been absent as well, having been accepted into several college classes despite still being in high school. For some reason, instead of graduating early as any other person would've done, Dib had decided to intersperse his last high school classes with a few college ones, so he was at the high school from nine to two thirty, and the college campus from three to five.

It was currently four, and while that only gave him an hour to work with, he was sure he could do it. He was Professor Membrane, after all!

However, when he got home, he had only made it into the kitchen when he heard some strange noises coming from upstairs. An odd banging noise, along with some shouts. Brow furrowing and slightly concerned, Professor Membrane headed up the stairs to see what was causing the noise. After so many years of living in a house with two intelligent and volatile young children that often brought trouble home with them--conveniently only whenever Professor Membrane was there to fix it--he had learned it was better to simply solve the problem and be rid of whatever outlandish 'cryptid' or 'demon' Dib and Gaz had brought home before it got out of hand.

Though, Professor Membrane considered as he crested the stairs to find the noise emanating from Dib's room, it was possible that it was simply that Dib had been working on his zombie project again and had forgotten to clean up after himself. 

Professor Membrane came upon his son's bedroom only to find the door already open, a slim crack big enough to fit a notebook through between the door and the trim. Grasping the nob and taking his blessings where they came that perhaps he wouldn't have to alert whatever experiment his son had unleashed, he peeked into the dim room beyond to gauge what he was walking into.

His eyes widened.

"Ah, fuck--_fuck_! Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop, right there--" Dib moaned breathlessly, strewn on his back over his rumpled bedcovers as a tall man with dark, graying hair and a heavy layer of scruff gripped his hips and fucked into him, scrubbing his mouth over the insides of Dib's thighs and giving him beard-burn. 

The man smiled, eyes hooded and lusty. "There you go, baby, you like that?" He murmured, leaning down to kiss and bite at Dib's neck, sucking dark hickeys into his skin in a staggered line down to his chest. "Moan for me, sweetheart, tell me how much you love it."

"Ngh, _a-ah_, love your cock in me, love it when you fill me up, James," Dib whined out breathlessly, voice cracking sporadically as he bucked his hips up into the man's rhythm, desperate. 

"Is that what you call me?" James said lowly, picking up the pace of his hips and changing the angle. 

Dib's back arched and he cried out, hands flying up to clutch at silver and black strands. "Ah! A_ha, nh!_ Please, please Daddy! Daddy please fuck me!"

James huffed out a laugh, slowing so he could fuck into Dib more deeply, rutting against him in a jagged, rough rhythm. "Aha, such a good boy. You're so good, sweetheart, so good for me. Taking my cock like a good little slut."

Tossing his head back, Dib let out wild, punched out sounds as he bared his neck to James' mouth once more, babbling. "Yes, Daddy, I'll be good. Love it when you fill me up, Daddy, you're so big, _please_!"

"Mm," James hummed, pleased. He pulled back to mouth at Dib's thighs again, biting and moaning into the bruised and raw flesh. "Gonna cum, baby. Daddy's gonna breed you."

Professor Membrane had had enough. He flung the door open so hard it slammed into the wall and stayed there, lodged in the plaster. Both Dib and James jolted, heads flying up to look at him. James' eyes went wide, and Dib went so pale he might as well have turned gray. 

"Dad!?" Dib gasped out, petrified. 

James scrambled out and off of Dib so fast that it made Dib cringe, the discomfort of being empty making him squirm. Swallowing, James started, "Professor Membrane--"

Cocking one arm back, an ominous blue glow starting up beneath his glove, Professor Membrane leveled it at the man's face and uttered a deadly, "Get. Out."

James didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his pants and ducked around the Professor as he fled for the door. There was a tense moment of silence, and then the front door slammed. Dib sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, eyes wide and seemingly at a loss for words. 

Professor Membrane lowered his arm, clenching his fists by his side. "...What were you thinking?"

Dib flinched. "I-I was thinking that you weren't home and Gaz wasn't home and I--"

"You _know _what I mean, Dib!" Professor Membrane shouted, whirling on his son with all the righteous fury of a scorned parent. "That man was clearly more than twice your age! And you just let him--?" He cut himself off, unable to say it out loud. Running a hand over his face, Professor Membrane let out a shaky breath, attempting to calm himself down. "How long has this been going on?"

"I--since term started." Dib swallowed and averted his eyes, humiliated.

"Since…" Professor Membrane trailed off, thunderstruck. "By Tesla, Dib, did it never occur to you that maybe he was using you? For God's sake, you're only fifteen years old!"

Dib went rigid, face going oddly blank. His lips thinned, and his shoulders lowered out of their defensive hunch. Something sparked in Dib's eyes, caustic. "Seventeen."

Professor Membrane blinked.

Whipping his head up to glare up at his father, Dib unfolded from his protective ball. "I'm seventeen years old, dad." Dib slipped off the bed and stood up, hands fisted by his sides. "Not that you'd know."

"No, you don't get to--"

"Since you're never here," Dib finished viciously. 

"You don't get to turn this around on me!" Professor Membrane yelled, incensed even as his chest twinged with guilt. He couldn't--he couldn't look at that right now. He gestured wildly at the door. "This, what you're doing, is unacceptable."

"Oh, right, just another thing for you to be disappointed in me for." Dib scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Do _not_\--"

"Whatever, just leave again so you can go back to pretending I don't exist," Dib snapped, hostile and aiming for the offensive despite displaying it as defensive. 

Professor Membrane took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I am going down to the basement to work on that automation robot for your sister's band concert, and then we are going to have a serious talk about this."

Dib blinked, then slowly shook his head, burying his face in his hands and wheezing out a laugh, dry and faintly hysterical. "Band concert? You mean the one from _November_? The one that Gaz nearly killed a guy at because you promised to come and then didn't? That band concert?"

Rigid, Professor Membrane flexed his hand, muscles spasming as the gloves creaked. "Put some clothes on."

Face flushing with color again, Dib grabbed the rumpled sheet off his bed and swung it around his shoulders. Professor Membrane caught a glimpse of his chest, which was surprisingly scarred with several different varieties of cicatrix. Unwittingly, he traced the marks down, landing on the space in between Dib's legs, inner thighs stained red with beard-burn and an unmistakable white fluid dribbling down them in thin rivulets.

'_Daddy's gonna breed you._'

Professor Membrane felt like he might be sick.

Dib grabbed his clothes and stalked past him into the bathroom. And despite the past few minutes, he was still hard. Dib slammed the door to the bathroom, locked it, and Professor Membrane was left to wait in tense, awkward silence as Dib got dressed. After a minute or so, Dib reemerged, clad in a rumpled sweater and jeans, still devoid of his glasses and his cowlick still drooped forward in disarray. 

"You are not allowed to see him anymore," Professor Membrane said immediately, far more sharply than he'd intended. "You can't just find any stranger off the street and--"

"Considering that he's my Chemistry professor, I wouldn't say he's a stranger," Dib drawled, interrupting him yet again. "I see him almost everyday."

"Not anymore," Professor Membrane replied icily, eyes narrowed. There was something ugly welling up in his chest, gnashing it teeth and undecided on whether it wanted to tear into Dib or himself. "I believe the sentence for statutory rape is at least a year in prison. He'll never be able to teach again afterward, not with that on his record."

Dib's eyes widened and he took a panicked step forward. "You can't do that! I'm above the legal age of consent!"

"The age is raised to eighteen if the accused is an authority figure," Professor Membrane said calmly, unmoved. Though something did squirm in his gut at the thought of Dib knowing the law on such a specific thing--that he had most likely _looked it up_.

"Oh my God!" Dib clutched at his hair and pulled in frustration, teeth gritted. "Are you serious right now? Are you seriously coming in here after _months _of nothing and trying to be an actual parent? Because that is BULLSHIT, dad!"

"I'm not arguing with you on this, Dib. You're going to stop seeing him, and since you've obviously proven that you can't be trusted by yourself, I'm going to have to monitor you." 

Dib gaped at him, stunned. "_Monitor _me? Are you fucking kidding me?" 

Professor Membrane didn't dignify that with an answer, instead turning his back Dib to leave the room. "When your sister gets home, we are all going to sit down and have a discussion about the boundaries and rules in this house. And then we will decide what to do about your poor judgement."

"Poor judgement!?" Dib shouted, beyond affronted. 

Professor Membrane ignored him, sweeping down the stairs and out into the kitchen as he heard Dib let out a strangled scream of something unintelligible before slamming his bedroom door shut. 

•⚡•

Dib stalked into school the next day with two armed guards flanking him, a scowl fixed on his face and deep, dark shadows under his eyes. People stopped and stared, whispering through the corners of their mouths and behind their hands. A few of the less tactful ones merely stared and pointed. 

Normally, Dib was able to fade into the background relatively well nowadays, especially since he and Zim had become friends a few years ago and Dib had learned to keep his trap shut around 'normal' people, having finally realized the unspoken rule to surviving high school--don't bleed around sharks.

But with his new tagalongs, he was on the receiving end of a several looks he thought he'd left behind in elementary school. But however much Dib wanted to duck his head and hurry along in hopes he might turn invisible and suddenly disappear from everyone's minds, he knew that if he showed weakness now the inevitable mockery would only be worse. So instead he kept his head high and his steps wide, shoulders squared in false confidence.

"Dib-thing!" A familiar voice called over the cacophony of whispers, and Dib nearly went boneless with relief when he saw Zim shoving his way through the students clustered at the front of the school building. Zim broke free and marched over to him, only for the guard on Dib's left to step in front of him. Zim blinked and cocked his head in confusion, eyes narrowed.

"He's a _student_, jackass," Dib snapped as he shouldered around the guard to face Zim. Grasping Zim's shoulder, Dib hurriedly steered them both towards the side door of the school, the guards unfortunately hot on their heels.

"What is going on?" Zim demanded even as he let Dib push him along. "Who are they!"

"My dad hired people to 'escort' me everywhere, because he says he can't trust me and my _poor judgement _anymore."

"While the Dib's judgement is certainly poor," Zim mused as they entered the building. "I am curious as to why the Dib-father suddenly decided to do something about it. What did you do this time?"

"One, rude. Two, he...might have walked in on James and me," Dib mumbled, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

Zim's eyes widened and he grinned, barking out a laugh that made Dib's ears ring. "HA! Zim would've paid to see the look on his face."

Dib groaned in frustration. "It's not funny! He got super pissed and then _I _got super pissed and now I have these two jockeys tagging me everywhere to make sure none of my teachers act 'untoward'."

"Is that why you are angry, then? The guards?"

"I...I guess not. I mean, I know they're only doing my dad's evil bidding, like everyone else in this fucking city," Dib said with another eyeroll. 

"You can _pay _people to do your evil bidding?" Zim asked incredulously. A wicked smile curled his lips. "So this means--"

"No, Zim." Dib gave him a deadpan look. "Do not rob a bank or launder money so you can buy an army of evil minions. You already have GIR."

"You and I both know that GIR does 'evil' about as well as he does 'minion'." Zim sighed. "Besides, I still haven't fixed his mainframe yet. That malware chip did a number on the mess that was already that robot's head." Zim ran a hand through his artificial hair, a gesture he'd only picked up after watching Dib do it several times during finals.

"I could come over after school and take a look," Dib offered as they approached the classroom. 

Zim raised an eyebrow and glanced behind him. "Are you sure? Will your, uh, escorts be accompanying you?"

Sucking his teeth, Dib grimaced. "Unfortunately. But they can wait outside and guard the perimeter or whatever. GIR's more important than family drama anyway."

Taken aback, Zim's eyes softened. "Really?"

Dib smiled. "Definitely."

Zim puffed out his cheeks and huffed, averting his eyes as they reached the classroom and walked in. Dib paused before he went in, however, and spun to face the two guards who were clearly about to follow him into the classroom.

"Don't even think about it," Dib said lowly when they came up short, staring at him. He pointed to either side of the doorway. "You can stand here, and the door can stay open, but for the love of Saturn don't follow me inside. You may just be doing your jobs but I don't need to give them more fodder than they've already got."

After a moment, the guards glanced at each other and then nodded, stepping aside to station themselves on either side of the door. Letting out a breath, Dib nodded jerkily to himself and turned to follow Zim into the classroom. 

Having them outside the classrooms didn't help. People still stared, people still pointed, and by the time lunch came around Dib was ready to stab the next person who whispered his name like a swear word in the eye. 

Dib sat at his usual table in the back, his tagalongs sitting on either side of him like comically hulky vultures, too big for the cafeteria stools. Dib had only just started in on his (rather shitty) mashed potatoes when a tray slammed down on either side of him and both his guards were shoved one seat over. 

"Move!" Zim barked as he settled in on Dib's right, in time with Gaz, who merely scowled menacingly at the guard when he made an offended noise as she plopped down on his left.

"Rumor mill's already started," Gaz intoned as she stabbed at her salad. "Word is that you're gay and dad didn't take it well. Close enough, I guess, but inherently wrong." She forked a hunk of lettuce into her mouth and leveled him with an unimpressed look.

Dib bristled. "Hey, how is this my fault? If he hadn't--"

"If you hadn't been fucking your Chemistry professor in our house, this wouldn't have happened," Gaz finished for him, glaring. Beside her, the guard choked on his own spit. She whipped a chipped black fingernail in his direction. "You get paid to mind your own damn business." Then she stabbed her finger in Dib's direction. "Don't try to blame dad for this. Not when _you're _the one who fucked up."

"He's being completely unreasonable!" Dib argued heatedly. He threw his hands up in exasperation. "I've done way worse stuff than this and he hasn't even blinked! Hell, I summoned a demon on Valentine's day once and it trashed the whole house--yet all he did was invent an advanced Roomba and said to be more careful next time I decided to play with something as volatile as sulphur. I do something that literally every teenager does and suddenly it's the end of the world?" Dib hissed at last, fork digging so hard into his tray that it broke, scattering plastic shards into his peas. 

"Zim has to agree with Dib on this one," Zim murmured around the Pixystix in his mouth. "This does seem a rather odd place to draw a line considering what you two get up to on a daily basis. Especially if what they taught in that _horrible _Sex-Ed class is true."

Gaz growled under her breath, irritated. "Dib, look me in the face and tell me that you think a single kid in this room would get off scott free if their parents caught them fucking someone way too old for them."

Dib took a moment to consider, turning away from Gaz to pick the pieces of his fork out of his food. "Zim's parents would be fine with it."

Straightening up, Zim uttered a blank, "What."

Gaz gave Dib an incredulous look. "That's because Zim's parents are fucking robots, Dib!"

"Yeah, and as far as I'm concerned, so is dad," Dib shot back with a glare. He braced himself to have Gaz tear him a new one, but they were all derailed by something flying through the air and smacking wetly into Dib's chest. Mashed potatoes splattered all over his shirt and the lower half of his face, dotting his glasses as he froze, arms held awkwardly out by his sides in a belated attempt to minimize the damage. 

Dib screwed his eyes shut and let out a breath, jaw clenched. There it was.

A chorus of snickers emanated from just in front of their table, and Dib cracked his eyes open to see two guys he didn't know the name of in front of him. Huh. Normally it was Melvin and Herk. 

The one in front with cropped blond hair and far too much fat to steadily stand on two legs looked over their table with a sneer, stopping on the guards. "Well, Membrane? Who's funeral is it?"

Eyes darkening dangerously, Dib slowly replaced his hands on the table, clutching it so hard his knuckles turned white. Then, in as steady a voice as he could manage, he replied, "I haven't decided yet." His gaze sharpened, lethal. "But the longer you stand there the closer I get to a decision."

Fatty's smile dropped, and it seemed they had suddenly remembered exactly who they were talking to. There had been a time where Dib was considered the crazy kid, and for valid reasons, he admitted. Even when Dib had learned that keeping his head down was easier, no one had forgotten the moose incident. No one wanted a repeat of it. 

So instead of instigating further, the two trolls backed off with a muttered, "Fucking freak."

The tension only faded from his body once they had moved out of sight, and Dib slumped slightly where he was sitting. Zim handed him a handful of napkins and he started on cleaning his shirt off as best he could, wiping at his face with a huff. "That went better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"That's because you just reminded them that you used to be feral as fuck," Gaz huffed, but her annoyance had seemingly lessened.

"The Dib is still entirely too feral," Zim snorted as he handed Dib yet another handful of napkins when he'd used the rest.

"So are you, Space Bug," Dib retorted as he scrubbed at the lining of his trenchcoat.

"Yes, but Zim wears it better."

Dib spluttered and ended up laughing so hard that he was nearly able to forget that he felt like shit. He also ended up choking on air and coughing on Zim, who then screeched and ran off towards the bathrooms, screaming about germs.

•⚡•

When Professor Membrane arrived at the high school, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the figure lingering by one of the lampposts on the sidewalk across from it. Gray eyes, scruff, salt and pepper hair, and now fully clothed, the man he had found defiling his son yesterday was leaning against the metal pole and watching the doors to the school with half-lidded eyes. 

White hot anger bubbled up in the Professor's chest, and before he had fully registered what he was doing, he had advanced on the Chemistry teacher like an approaching storm. James looked up as Professor Membrane approached, eyes widening. He put up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, but he didn't flee as he had the night before. It seemed he had gathered himself.

"Before you say anything, I got fired this morning and I just wanted to say goodbye, since I won't be seeing him again."

"Did it not occur to you," Professor Membrane began coldly. "That the reason you were fired was because I didn't want to see you around my son?"

"You--_you _got me fired?" James questioned incredulously, aghast. "Why?"

"Because I came home to find you balls deep in my _teenage **son**_!" Professor Membrane seethed, looming over James like an omen of death. "Not to mention the depraved things you were making him call you--"

"Whoa, no, that was all consensual. He was very into it, practically begging for it--"

Professor Membrane had James by his throat, slamming his harshly against the lamppost, making it rattle and groan. James gasped and coughed, blood trickling from his temples as he groaned in pain. "If I ever see you in my son's general vicinity ever again," He said, deathly calm. "I will kill you. And I will get away with it, because there will be nothing left of you to find. You will simply cease to exist. Do you understand?"

Face ashen and stricken with fear, James nodded hastily, unable to speak. When Professor Membrane released him, he staggered to the side before turning on heel and bolting in the opposite direction, stumbling every few feet. The Professor had most likely given him a concussion. _Good. _It was the least of what he deserved.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Professor Membrane lifted a hand and pressed a button on his wrist. A surge of static, and then every CCTV feed in a ten block radius was wiped of the past five minutes. 

After all, Professor Membrane did not make idle threats.

•⚡•

Dib exited the school building with Zim at his side, the guards tagging along behind them at a slightly more respectful distance than they had started out with. Dib suspected that his little display at lunch had impressed them a bit, so they were softening up to him. Maybe. It was hard to tell what went on beneath those cliché sunglasses after all.

Zim was ranting on about something or other (the validity of Floopsy and Shmoopsy's relationship wasn't something Dib was particularly interested in), and Dib was fully prepared to somehow cram both Zim and himself into the backseat of his beat up Saturn while Ruffnut and Tuffnut 'escorted' them to Zim's house, when he caught sight of a commotion over by the front doors.

Even Zim cut off once they got close enough, wig twitching in a way that meant his antennae were perked. "What on Irk...?"

"Professor Membrane rocks!"

"Mr. Membrane, sign my face!"

"YOU'RE AWESOME, PROFESSOR!"

Dib went rigid, like a deer caught in the headlights. "What is he doing here?" Dib hissed shrilly. "W-Why isn't he at work?"

Zim shrugged helplessly, just as confused as he was. 

Opening his mouth to suggest they try to round the crowd to get to the parking lot before he noticed them, Dib was struck silent when his dad looked up and caught sight of him. Goggles glinting, Professor. Membrane finished his signature with a flourish and handed the notebook back to whatever fan was in front of him. Then he jerked his head back towards the pristine white Membrane Labs car idling behind him on the curb, gesturing for Dib to come over.

"Think we could still make a run for it?" Dib muttered, swallowing. 

"You _could,_" Zim said carefully. "But I do not think that would be the wisest course of action."

"Dib," Came the call of his dad's voice over the chatter of the crowd, somehow managing to be heard despite not raising his voice. 

"Fuck," Dib cursed under his breath, several eyes turning to him. "Raincheck, Zim?"

"Zim thinks that would be best."

Sighing heavily, Dib gave his friend a nod before making his way reluctantly over to his dad. There was a small, childish flutter in his chest that ached and bled at the notion of his father picking him up from school again, clinging to the action and cooing '_Look! Look! He cares! He's here!_'. Meanwhile, the part of Dib that had grown up much faster than the rest of him, snarled at the very idea of Professor Membrane caring about him. '_He's only here because he doesn't trust you. He thinks you're still a child. A stupid, crazy boy that can't tell fiction from reality. He doesn't care--he just doesn't want an embarrassment for a son._'

The crowd parted for him reluctantly, barely enough for him to get through as he shouldered roughly past them. Annoyed, a few people shoulder checked him back, making him stumble as he exited the crowd.

Gloved hands caught his shoulders before he could fall, and Dib jerked back like he'd been burned, eyes wide. His dad's face was blank. He reached over and opened the back door of the car. "Get in."

•⚡•

Hackles raised but acutely aware of the eyes on them, Dib grit his teeth and obediently slipped into the backseat. Professor Membrane shut the door and then climbed into the driver's seat, heedless of the disappointed cries of the crowd. He pulled out of his parking spot and spun them into the road, steering out into traffic.

He drove for a while, the car filled with thick, heavy silence, before he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, gloves creaking. He sighed.

"I have had some time to think. I realize that I was very hasty, yesterday. I just assumed that...well, I never asked if you were in danger, if he was forcing you." He lifted his eyes to look at Dib through the rearview mirror, feeling nauseous at the notion, but he had to ask. "Was he threatening to fail you? Were you struggling with your grades? Did he blackmail you?"

"What?" Dib blurted incredulously, startling out of his tense posture, arms and legs crossed. "_No!_ No, I was--I was acing all my classes. I'm top of my class. _I_ came onto _him_," He clarified.

Professor Membrane felt relief bolt through him, a sweeping feeling of pride following right after it. Of course it wasn't a matter of grades. His Dib was far too smart for that, after all. But then, hot on the heels of that pride, came the distress. That meant that bastard James had been telling the truth.

Professor Membrane shook his head slowly. "I just don't understand why you would do that, Dib. What could you possibly have gained from a relationship like that?"

He knew. By _Edison_, he knew. But he was hoping that Dib would give him a different answer, an excuse at best. Something that would make it easier for him to sleep at night. 

But Dib didn't say anything. He merely tensed back up, turning to glare out the window with a scowl on his face. It wasn't an answer, but it also wasn't an insult or deflection. (That in and of itself was enough of an answer).

Professor Membrane sighed despairingly, exhausted. "...Where did I go wrong with you?"

That, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say. Dib's entire body spasmed, stiff. He whipped his head around to give his father a blazing stare through the mirror. "When's my birthday, dad?"

"December 29th," Professor Membrane responded on instinct, thoughtless. 

For a moment, Dib seemed taken aback, his angry expression faltering briefly at such a quick response. A flicker of hurt flashed across his face, before it was replaced by bitterness. "Oh, so you do know. You just never bothered to show up for it." 

Professor Membrane had just pulled into their driveway, and as soon as he put it in park Dib tried to wrench the door open. The Professor slammed his fist into the button on the dashboard, and a thin sheen of blue pixelated out over the car in a span of seconds. Dib got the door about an inch of the way open before it hit the screen. Amber eyes widening, he swore. 

"What the hell, Dad!" 

"Hand me your phone." 

Dib's scowl dropped and the blood drained from his face. It wasn't a promising expression. "What, no! Let me out!"

"I'll let you out when you give me your phone," Professor Membrane uttered calmly.

"_Unshield the car, Dad!_"

"Your phone, Dib."

"What do you even want it for?" Dib shot back quickly, a frantic note to his voice. "It's _my_ phone!"

Holding his hand out to the side, palm up, Professor Membrane kept his expression carefully empty. "I pay for it, so on technicality, it's mine. I won't ask you again, Dib."

Snarling, Dib dug into his trenchcoat pocket and smacked the small rectangle of glass into Professor Membrane's outstretched hand, his own gone white knuckled around the door handle. Clutching the device, the Professor pressed the button, and Dib was out of the car before the shields were all the way down. Coat sweeping behind him, Dib stormed up to the front door and threw it open, marching in as he slammed the door behind him so hard the windows rattled. Professor Membrane let out a breath, his expression falling as he let the phone drop into his lap and buried his face in his hands. 

That...certainly could've gone better. 

Peeking through his fingers at the phone sitting inconspicuously in his lap, he felt his stomach flip. Originally, he had just wanted to make sure to block and delete all of Dib's teachers' numbers from his phone. But with how Dib reacted to such a simple request, it made him worried about what else he would find on it. 

Grabbing the phone (one of the newer ML models, the glossy black back of it marred by a green and purple UFO sticker that read **BELIEVE** in jagged font) and pocketing it, Professor Membrane shut off the car and exited, going up to the front door only to hesitate before it. Then, shaking his head, he opened the door and headed inside. Immediately, his ears strained for the sound of Dib. Downstairs was deafeningly quiet, but upstairs he could hear the sound of Dib stomping around in his room, no doubt still furious with him. 

Professor Membrane ran a hand through his hair as he turned and knocked his hand against the panel next to the door. A high-pitched _shoom_, and then the shields of the house were engaged, metal slats slamming down over the windows and outer doors, the same blue sheen encompassing the walls. 

Above, there was a loud thump. "Are you FUCKING _SERIOUS_?"

Ignoring the outburst, Professor Membrane walked through the house towards the basement, the phone a heavy weight in his pocket. Descending the steps and confident in the fact that it would take Dib several hours to hack the shields if he tried (an impossible feat for anyone else save perhaps his daughter), Professor Membrane stepped into his lab and swept over to the computer monitors. 

He took out the phone and laid it next to the modem, which instantly shot out a wire to plug into the charging port, downloading the contents of Dib's phone. Dipping his fingers beneath the collar of his lab coat to scrub at his mouth, Professor Membrane waited for the download to finish, the numbers increasing so rapidly it made dial-up look like a joke. 

Once the bar hit a hundred percent, the monitor flickered and displayed Dib's homescreen. It was a selfie of Dib and his hemophiliac dwarf friend, the latter looking startled and annoyed while Dib was frozen mid-laugh, slightly blurred. 

Professor Membrane scanned the apps scattered across the screen and hovered over a few before ultimately biting the bullet and selecting the messaging app. It bloomed up into surprisingly few threads, one to Gaz, one to Space Boy--he assumed that was the friend in Dib's homescreen. There was another thread labelled 'Don't Respond Ever', which was situated right below one titled simply with the anatomically correct emoji of a heart.

And Professor Membrane could admit that he procrastinated by clicking Gaz's thread first. It was unsurprisingly sparse given what he knew about his children, with an unanswered text or photo every couple of weeks or so, with small conversations dotted between the stretches of barren time. The most recent one was from Gaz that simply read '_**i told you so**_'. Dib hadn't responded. 

Moving up one, Professor Membrane read three texts to Dib's friend before frowning and exiting. It was all emojis, it seemed, possibly downloaded from a separate app because they weren't like any he had ever seen. The third was even stranger, if only because there was only one text in it with lines of dates giving away that several messages had been deleted. The single text in the thread was from Dib. '_**Stop fucking texting me Keef before I gift Zim your organs**_'.

Shaking his head, Professor Membrane exited the thread. Then, steeling himself, he clicked on the last one. 

It opened up to Dib apologizing profusely for the night before, things like '_**He's literally NEVER home I don't know what happened**_', and '_**I am so so sorry**_', and '_**It wasn't my fault you KNOW he's never home**_'.

'_**I know, baby. Of course it wasn't your fault. We should've been more careful from the start.**_'

'_**Oh thank fuck. I'll see you on Friday right? We can figure something out.**_'

'_**Is your dad going to be okay with that?**_'

'_**No but he'll forget about this in a day or so, so who cares**_'

'_**I don't know babydoll, he seemed pretty upset. We'll talk about it Friday, okay?**_'

'_**Fine. Looking forward to it ;P**_'

And then there was nothing else. Of course there wasn't. Professor Membrane had threatened the prick within an inch of his life before he could respond. The Professor made a mental note to make sure that Dib was confined to the house on Friday, just in case.

With that in mind, he scrolled up, not waiting for the rest of the messages to load so he could start from the beginning. He wanted to understand how this happened, how it started, so he could prevent it from ever happening again. 

It started innocuously, with Dib clarifying that it was indeed the Chemistry professor's phone number and asking after a quiz he was supposed to make up. Which only further served to prove James' claim of Dib being the instigator, given that Dib had said he was acing all his classes. He had most likely failed on purpose to catch his teacher's attention and get a chance to speak with him outside of class. 

Then it was simply scattered messages, until something changed. On August 31st of last year, the tone of their messages abruptly changed tone, going from professional to openly flirtatious. Thus the introduction of the petnames. It wasn't anything to surprising, and Dib's professor had managed to keep things shockingly clean on his end, but it was still discomforting to read. By the time he reached December, he was unsure who was manipulating who.

Then, on December 25th--Christmas, he recalled with distaste--the messages changed yet again. But this time, he could see why.

'_**I miss you, sweetheart.**_'

'_**Miss me? Or my ass?**_' 

'_**That's a tough one.**_'

'_**Asshole. Come over then and show me how much you missed it.**_'

'_**Ah, sweetheart, you know I can't. I'm out of state for the holidays.**_'

'_**Need something to tide you over until you get back?**_'

'_**I could only hope for something so miraculous.**_'

A break in the texts: a photo, dim and crooked. A snapshot Dib's face half obscured by a pillow, eyes half-lidded and eyebrow raised. 

'_**I can think of a few things.**_'

'_**...Dib, no.**_'

'**_My birthday is in a few days. I'll be seventeen. It's fine_**.'

'**_Only if you're sure, sweetheart._**'

'**_I don't know old man. You're starting to make me think you can't handle it ;P_**'

Another break. A picture of an unbuttoned dress shirt, a calloused hand pressed against the starting line of a happy trail. 

'_**Trust me, baby, I can handle you.**_'

Professor Membrane shut his eyes for a moment, hands gone so tight on the desk that they'd left dents in the laquer. They weren't. Dib didn't. 

The next picture was of Dib, laying on his back in bed, one hand in his hair and half his torso exposed, having pushed up his tank top.

'_**You sure about that Daddy?**_'

'**_Oh fuck, yes. God, you've got sex hair, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's gonna take such good care of you_**.'

'**_Yeah? Show me._**'

The resulting dick pic was something that Professor Membrane could have gone his whole life content in knowing he hadn't seen it. But now he had, and it was nothing compared to the knowledge that everything James had said was true. Dib had started all of it. Even the...

'**_Fuck yeah. You wanna put it in me?_**'

'**_I'm going to put it in your perfect little ass when I get back. I miss how you take me in so well, sweetheart, so good._**'

Then another photo, this one far clearer than the rest. Dib had stripped and situated himself in perfect view of the camera, scarred up body arced in pleasure as three of his fingers disappeared into him, leaning forward on one hand and facing the phone, face flushed a rosy pink and tongue lolling provocatively out of his mouth. Slightly shielding his hand from view, Dib's cock stood full and proud against the lean muscle of his stomach, drooling precum all over his abdomen. 

Professor Membrane's stomach dropped, something fuzzy starting in his gut and fizzing upwards towards his chest. Unable to continue, he shut the computer off entirely, the image of his debauched son burned into his brain as he struggled not to think of it. Not to remember the lines of those scars and obsessively wonder where they'd come from and how Dib had gotten them. Not to remember the seemingly relative ease with which Dib had twisted his body to fuck himself on his own fingers. Not to immediately combine it with the noises he'd heard escape Dib's mouth the night before.

Smacking a hand onto the modem, Professor Membrane gritted his teeth and uttered, "Insert surveillance chip."

A swish and a ding, and then Dib's phone flickered back to life as if nothing had happened. Dib would be none the wiser.

Professor Membrane was starting to wish he could say the same.


	2. Honey, You've Got A Big Storm Comin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm launching myself into the stratosphere to become a supernova y'all want anything?

Dib found his phone had been returned to his bedside table while he slept, despite him having locked his door before going to bed. Eyes flying open, he scrabbled for his glasses and snatched the device off his nightstand, powering it on. He blearily examined his phone, searching for any changes that his dad might have made to it.

Fortunately, it seemed that all he had done was delete and block James' number. Everything else looked to be in order. Swallowing hard, Dib hastily went into his photos and frantically deleted the multiple risque pictures he had saved. It looked like his dad hadn't gone snooping, but Dib could only hope he hadn't looked at Dib's conversations with James before deleting it. He wouldn't have had to scroll up very far to see something he didn't want to see.

That done, Dib opened up his conversation with Zim and typed out, '°_We can meet up after school today so I can help you with GIR. I need to talk to you_.°'

He pocketed his phone, dug through the pile of semi-clean clothes at the end of his bed, and pulled out a t-shirt that read **If You've Got Telekinesis Raise My Hand**. Tugging it on, Dib shoved on his socks and shoes and grabbed his coat, not glancing at the clock because he knew he was already late for school.

Snagging his computer case, Dib swept out of his room, down the stairs, and made for the kitchen to grab a piece of toast before he left. Familiar with his 'late for school' routine, as soon as Dib walked into the kitchen, Foodio shot a perfectly crispened piece of bread at him, buttered and all. Dib caught it with one hand and tucked it into his mouth as he spun on heel and headed quickly for the door. 

Only to reach it and stop dead. He'd forgotten that his dad had locked down the house last night. Swearing around the toast in his mouth, Dib moved over to the panel next to the door and started to work on disabling the fields. If he remembered correctly, the last password was the entire periodic table recited in thirty seconds or less, so he pressed his hand against the panel once he'd pulled up the defense locks and rapidly listed off the elements in alphabetical order.

"_ERROR: ACCESS DENIED_."

"What?" Dib muttered. He shook his head and tried again, making sure to enunciate clearly.

"_ERROR: ACCESS DENIED._"

Swearing, Dib swiped out of the passcode entry to try and slip into the settings. Of course his dad would've changed the password. Carefully maneuvering the bread in his mouth so he could take a bite and still hold it between his teeth, Dib set about taking down the firewalls and breaking through the higher layers of defenses to get at the door shields. It was significantly harder than Gaz made it look, but Dib was making steady progress.

It would've been easier to simply swallow his pride and go ask his dad to let the shields down, but with the way things had been going lately, Dib wasn't entirely sure that he _would_. 

Cursing when the system reset him, Dib slammed his fist into the wall beside the panel, frustrated. He choked on his next swear when he felt a familiar presence come to hover over his shoulder, a gloved hand coming to grasp his wrist to tug his hand away from the panel. Dib froze, hyperaware of the proximity of his father as he leaned over Dib to press his own hand into the panel. A flash of blue, and then the shields went down. 

Perhaps Dib would've been indignant at the addition of the scanner if his brain currently wasn't stalling like a dead battery. The heat and phantom weight pressing into Dib's shoulders made him feel impossibly small in a way he hadn't in years, especially after hitting six foot. 

It occured to Dib then, absently, that this was probably the closest they'd gotten to a hug in years. 

Not that Dib thought it was entirely his dad's fault. It was mostly Dib growing jaded and cynical that had done it. He could walk up to his father and ask for a hug and it would be awkward but it wasn't like his dad would say _no_\--hell, Dib could probably do that right now, even with how frigid things currently were between them.

But he also couldn't. 

Because Dib didn't think he could handle it now. He'd been slowly withdrawing from his already withdrawn father since he was twelve years old, and in doing so had convinced himself that it was better if he just stopped interacting with his dad altogether. That way it didn't hurt so much whenever he came home for a while and then left again, immersed in some new project that would take months to complete. And maybe Dib was bitter. Bitter and tired of chasing after someone that seemed to want nothing to do with him. So...he stopped chasing. And his father had never even noticed.

Well, he hadn't until he found Dib fucking his Chem. professor. 

"I'll drive you. You'll be late if you walk."

Dib's stomach flipped, heart leaping into his throat. Suspicion rose up immediately behind a surge of delectation, both of which he shoved down viciously, annoyed with himself.

'_Get a fucking grip, Dib. He doesn't have an ulterior motive, he just knows your car is still at the school. And he's not doing it out of the goodness of his heart, either. He just doesn't want you running off._'

"Is that all you're taking? You don't have a bookbag?" He continued, glancing down at Dib's computer case with barely contained distaste.

"Everything's in my locker," Dib muttered through cold toast and numb lips, still reeling a bit from shock.

Stepping back slightly, gloved hands moved from the panel to his shoulders to steer him out the door. "Alright then." He only released Dib's shoulders when he had parked his son at the passenger side door of the car, letting go to round the car and get in the driver's side. "Come on."

Dib kind of blanked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was sitting in the passenger seat, his shoulders and wrist still sparking with weighted, phantom touches. Maybe it was because Dib was already partially strung out from stress and lack of sleep, but the sensation refused to leave. It _itched_, like his shock had physically bubbled beneath his skin to exacerbate itself, and Dib barely resisted the urge to claw at them.

He swallowed and clutched his case to his chest, having at some point finished his toast and yet not feeling any fuller for it. His stomach fizzed, nervous--_excited_. Hopeful.

Dib clenched his jaw, knuckles aching from how hard he was holding his case. He focused on the ache instead, relieved, and dropkicked everything else from his mind.

It wouldn't do to get attached now, after all. (Nevermind that fact that it was too late.)

•⚡•

Dib was relinquished into the trusted hands of the paid guards at the school's front door, and his jittery mindset snapped back into anger just in time for him to narrowly avoid embarrassing himself by almost going for a hug, damn the consequences. Sucking in a sharp breath and immediately taking a large step away from both his father and the guards, Dib swept past both of them and into the school without saying goodbye.

He went through his first two classes in a blur, only snapping completely out of his funk when lunch rolled around. Dib was once again joined by his tagalongs, and this time they left room on either side of him for Zim and Gaz, even though Dib was several minutes early to lunch and they weren't there yet. 

But, as usual, it wasn't long before something was chucked at him by someone who gave very little shits about both the guards next to him and his display yesterday. Granted, Dib's display had managed to downgrade food to a soda can, but still. He saw it flying towards him, about to clock him the eye, and he immediately threw up a hand to catch it, but it never got that far. The guard on his left had straightened and pulled out a _gun _within seconds, blasting the can to pieces before it could even breach the table. 

The sound ricocheted through the cafeteria and silenced the entire room, and Dib gawked at the man next to him, stunned and incredulous. Clicking the safety on, he waved his gun at the crowd of petrified students. "There's been a new 'no bullying' policy implemented until the end of the year. I'd cool it."

His voice was gruff and unimpressed. It sent chills down Dib's spine. 

The students frantically resumed eating, like if they ignored the past few minutes it would eliminate the threat. Dib scoffed, disbelieving. "That was..._so_ extra. What the fuck?"

"Professor Membrane instructed us to ensure that an incident like yesterday didn't happen again," the guard to his right piped up, his voice much higher than Dib would've thought. 

"There's only so much threats will do. Sometimes a practical demonstration is needed." The one to his left sent him an unsubtle look.

"...Fair enough," Dib conceded, eyes half-lidded. He could feel the one on the left staring at him. 

Then Gaz slung herself down between them with a grunt, Zim doing the same on his other side. It felt like two sets of guards instead of one. Especially with the sharp look Gaz have him when he turned back to his food, miffed.

"You wanna tell me why the fuck I came home to a locked down house last night?" She drawled lowly, threatening him with her fork. 

Dib wasn't even going to question how she'd gotten in and out of the house. He rolled his eyes and stabbed at the bland rice on his tray, but then his brow furrowed as his blurry confusion resurfaced. "Dad...picked me up from school yesterday. You were still at band practice or else you would've seen it; there was a whole crowd in front of the car. He was making a huge fucking scene, and then when we got in the car he tried to, I don't know, smooth things over? But it didn't come out right and then I got pissed and said some things; next thing I know he's taking my phone and locking me in the house. And yeah, I guess I get it on some level, but fucking--_still_."

Gaz's eyes had cracked open and gone wide. When he finished, they narrowed with suspicion. "Okay, yeah, that's really weird. Even for Dad."

"Weren't you the one who said what he was doing was justified?" Dib retorted with a raised eyebrow.

"I was just glad Dad caught you before you fell in love with this one," She shot back with a defensive sneer, fishing her Game Slave 8 out of her backpack and booting it up.

Dib flushed, mortified. "I wasn't--"

"He was lasting longer than the others. Dib, you let him _kiss _you. Not making out either, but the sappy shit like goodbye kisses. The exact thing you didn't let Phred do because you thought he was getting too attached. Like _you _were getting with James."

"I was not in love with him!" Dib hissed. 

"No, but any longer and it would've been more than just an inconvenience that he's gone. You probably miss him right now."

"The way he treated me, I guess," Dib conceded after a moment, averting his eyes. He refused to elaborate. "But it wasn't like I was planning to marry him or whatever. I'm not _that _stupid."

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Still stupid enough to get caught."

Dib had nothing to say to that.

•⚡•

By the end of the day, Dib had devised something of a plan. 

It was a campus day, and he was supposed to meet James. No fucking _way _was he letting Tweedledee and Tweedledum chaperone him and go snitching to his dad as soon as Dib went within James's general vicinity.

Though to be honest, Dib had abandoned the idea of fooling around once they got the chance, if only because Dib _really _wasn't in the mood. He'd apologize to James again, in person like a functional human being, they'd talk about where they wanted to go from there, and Dib would have to find a way to circumvent his dad's sudden investment in Dib's personal life.

(It wasn't as unwelcome as it should've been. Dib was berating the hell out of the tiny voice in the back of his head that whispered, "_He's paying attention--he cares! It's all you've wanted for **years**. Why would you throw that away?_" Dib dropkicked it into his subconscious and hissed at it every time it tried to resurface. It was stubborn.)

So, towards the end of the day, Dib casually headed for the bathroom. When his guards--he'd learned their names were Whyatt and Mikill--went to follow him, Dib pulled a surprised face and spun on heel, hands up to stop them from going any further. 

"Whoa--really? You have to follow me in the _bathroom_? Dude!" He made himself sound offended.

"We were told to keep an eye on you at all times," Whyatt gruffed reluctantly, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you serious," Dib deadpanned. He ran a hand over his face. "Okay. Whatever. What's a little more humiliation?" A flicker of guilt flashed across both their faces. _Bingo_. "...Do both of you have to come in?" Dib murmured defeatedly, averting his eyes and clutching at his bicep like he was embarrassed.

The guards exchanged a glance, then Mikill sighed and stepped forward. "Whyatt can wait outside. You can use the stall."

Taking care not to seem overly grateful and yet not _ungrateful, _Dib nodded. He turned and pushed into the bathroom, Mikill maintaining a respectful distance between them even as he followed. Mikill was the same one that had shot a can to pieces earlier. Dib wished that he could get a better read on him. Those damn sunglasses were in the way.

Dib ducked into the stall and pulled out his phone. He opened the sound app, tugged out another device from his coat pocket, then plugged them into one another before sticking the device on the graffitied stall wall. Unhooking his phone, he tucked it into his jeans and pressed the button on his sticky speaker. A zipper, and then delayed trickling water.

Smirking to himself, Dib silently stepped onto the toilet seat and heaved himself up, sliding one of the ceiling tiles out of the way. That should keep them busy for a while.

Not for long, though. Dib wasn't stupid; he knew if his dad had selected them as guards, they weren't the regular run-of-the-mill morons that seemed to infest the rest of the world like a plague. So Dib would have to be fast.

Slipping the tile back into place, Dib stood and shuffled his way across the support beams until he reached the hatch to the roof. Shoving it open, Dib lept up and pulled himself out of it, then took a running start across the roof towards the parking lot. His car was sitting exactly where he left it, and his keys were still in his coat, so all he had to do was make it to his car and he was home free. Fishing yet another homemade device out of his coat pocket, Dib flicked the safety off and aimed for the streetlamp just over his car. 

Homemade or not, Dib had incredible aim and his grappling hook hit true, and he swung off the school roof like a spy version of Tarzan, feeling vaguely proud of himself. 

He hadn't had this much of a rush since he and Zim stopped fighting for the sake of the Earth.

Fumbling his keys, he hit the concrete running and mashed the unlock button, giving a soft cheer of success when his car beeped weakly. Dib wrenched open the door and slung himself into the driver's seat, jamming the key in and barely waiting for it to crank before peeling out of there like a maniac.

Huffing when he made it into traffic towards campus with no tails in sight, Dib let his head hit the steering wheel. He laughed quietly, breathless. 

That was the craziest thing he'd done in a while. He was sure he'd regret it later, but for now...

"I've still got it."

When Dib reached the campus, however, he was in for a surprise. 

No one would look at him, catching a glimpse of him and quickly hurrying away, almost like they were afraid of him. The teachers avoided him like the plague. The few professors he'd managed to seduce previously were even worse, giving him a wide berth and frantically pretending he didn't exist.

Dib stormed into his Astronomy class and watched as the blond professor at the desk jumped. The classroom was empty, as Dib was early, but he glanced around for an escape route anyway. Dib slammed his hands down on the desk.

"Alright, Phred," Dib began pleasantly, though his eyes were deadly. "Wanna tell me why the fuck you look like you're about to piss yourself? Or why everyone else looks the same?"

"Y-You don't know?" Phred stammered after a moment, pale and confused. "James got fired. His teaching license was permanently revoked as well. Courtesy of some information sent in from M-Membrane Labs."

Dib's stomach dropped. 

Fuck.

•⚡•

"It was a nightmare, Zim!" Dib ranted as he paced through Zim's living room with a soldering gun in one hand and a circuit board in the other, mending as he fumed. "I mean after everything else--God, phone, stop fucking lighting up!" Dib snapped as the thing lit up to display his lockscreen for the fortieth time. He didn't think he was pacing that hard. He plucked it out of his jeans and tossed it onto the couch beside Zim. "I specifically asked him not to go after James, I told him that _I _was the one who started it, and what does he do? The EXACT OPPOSITE! No one would even look at me, Zim, they were all so spooked. Ethan and Weel acted like acknowledging my existence would be a death sentence, and Phred damn near shit himself when I walked into the classroom."

"Understandable," Zim mused as he stroked at GIR's oculars, which were dark with deactivation. He had the robot huddled protectively in his lap. "They were all in a similar position to James regarding you, and if he could be prosecuted for it, why couldn't they? An example was made, and it was effective," He finished matter-of-factly.

"An example didn't need to be made!" Dib replied heatedly as he melded the last few wires of GIR's mainframe together.

"Was there anything in it for the Professor if he did not make an example of your mate? Did you propose any sort of compromise in exchange for him leaving James be?"

Dib stopped dead and blinked. His brow furrowed. "I--no. No, I didn't."

Zim hummed and waved a hand dismissively. "Well, there you go. Zim supposes that if you had promised your parental unit something he desired in exchange, he would have been more lenient. At least, that is the Irken way of doing things."

Working his jaw, Dib huffed. "But I shouldn't _have _to promise him anything for him to not just ruin somebody's life because of something _I _did! That's just completely illogical!"

"It must not be to him," Zim said simply, shrugging.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, he _is _your Tallest."

Dib went rigid. "What?"

Zim's eyes narrowed, and then, a little louder and enunciating clearly, he repeated, "The Professor is the Dib's Tallest."

Whipping his head around to glare at the alien, Dib scoffed. "No, Zim, that's not how humans work. He's my dad."

"And he is also your Tallest!" Zim argued, growing annoyed. "Are you telling me you did not know he was your Tallest?"

Dib clapped his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut even as the tip of the soldering gun in his hand burned the skin of his ear. "Stop saying that! He's nothing like--"

"He is the tallest authority figure in the Dib's life, and he dictates everything about your life from your decisions to your feelings to your thoughts," Zim stated bluntly, unimpressed.

It hit him like a bat to the gut (a feeling he was unfortunately familiar with, thanks to Gaz), those words. Dib's eyes fluttered open and his hands fell limp to his sides. Dib swallowed.

"Did he not assert his will over you by forbidding you from seeing your previous mate?" Zim went on, a knowing look in his big, berry pink eyes. "And are you not only taking those college courses because you wanted to please him? Zim knows for a fact that you HATECombinatorics."

"That's because it's fucking stupid! I already _know _all the stuff they're trying to cram down my throat!" Dib began at once, the mere mention of that horrible class making his skin crawl.

"And yet you are taking the classes anyway. Because your loyalty and need for your parental unit's approval demands it." Zim sat back against the couch cushions and crossed his arms. He had an infuriating look on his face, like he knew he was right and yet wasn't all that happy about it. His and Dib's relationship may not have been all rainbows and sugar canes, but it was certainly no longer hostile. He didn't want to see Dib hurt. And given the entire debacle with Zim's own Tallest--a touchy subject for the both of them--of course he'd be less than pleased.

Dib looked away, scowling. What was he supposed to say to that? He certainly wouldn't be admitting that Zim might be _right_.

('_He can't be right. Dad isn't like that. He might be forgetful and oblivious sometimes, but he's never **hurt **me.' _But he did. '_But not like that!' _Does that matter? '..._Whatever! Zim's not right, because then that would mean that I...'_)

"He is your Tallest, Dib," Zim said softly.

Dib shut his eyes and let out a heavy breath. When he opened them again, they'd gone glassy. He sent Zim a wry smile and let out a quiet laugh. "I hate you sometimes, Space Boy."

•⚡•

GIR was happily up and running around by the time Dib left, Zim having to pry the emotional robot from Dib's trenchcoat as he screamed and cried, "DON'T LEEEEAVE I WANNA WATCH THE GOOD MOVIE!"

Dib had no idea what he was talking about, but he was glad that GIR was back to his old self again. 

Being able to simply rant and yell at each other was a key part of Dib and Zim's friendship, if only because they were the only one that would listen to the other. Well, listen and not insult them or change the subject.

Dib drove home with an ever growing ball of dread in his stomach. For good reason, of course. Not only had he had a disturbing revelation about his father, but he had also ditched the guards assigned to him by said father to go to his campus classes and visit Zim for a few hours. No doubt his dad would be _pissed _when Dib got home. 

Dib could only hope Gaz would be home as well, if only for someone to hide behind if needed. 

Not that Dib couldn't be confrontational--he had confrontation down to an art form, at this point. It was just...Gaz helped him keep a relatively clear head where dad was concerned. And no matter how angry Dib might be, he didn't want to start something he wouldn't be able to finish.

(If it were anyone else. If it were _anyone else--_)

Dib pulled up to the curb and parked, taking in a deep breath and holding it until it burned. He let it go in a gusty sigh, then sucked it up and got out of the car. The ball of anxiety in his stomach grew heavier and heavier as he reached the door, turned the knob, and threw it open.

The lights were off. The house was empty.

Dib blinked.

...Nothing.

His eyes darkened, glinting faintly as he stepped inside and shut the door. It felt like his entire body had iced over.

"Of course. I don't know what I was expecting."

•⚡•

Dib drove to school the next morning in his own car, banging on the dashboard so his coffee maker would give him his cup. He really shouldn't have installed it there; the wiring was too delicate. He parked with one hand and sipped at his coffee with the other, distracted. 

He got out of his car and kicked the door shut, clicking the key fob over his shoulder and not waiting for it to beep. Downing half his coffee in one go, Dib stalked towards the school doors, where he could see Whyatt and Mikill standing at attention. He smirked when they caught sight of him, Mikill's jaw clenching tightly. Dib waltzed right past them with a wink. "Hello boys."

They hastily followed after him, falling into place on either side of him like they'd done at the beginning. It garnered more stares, but Dib had well and truly stopped caring. There was something raw and festering in his chest, like an open wound, and it left him so cold it _ached_. 

Let them stare. Let them whisper. Dib did not care. It didn't matter. 

_It didn't fucking** matter**_. 

He thought one of his tagalongs might pipe up to scold him for ditching them yesterday, maybe mutter under their breath about how they were working with an immature brat, but they stayed silent. Dib polished off his coffee and tossed the cup into the trash can as he passed it.

He was ready to start a fire. Cause a little _chaos_.

(He hated feeling numb.)

Dib swept into his first class and didn't even protest when Whyatt and Mikill followed him, standing in the back of the class like judging vultures. Dib wet his lips, eager. 

What would they do? Nothing? They were there to observe and prevent others from harming Dib, after all. What would they do with the _reverse_?

That annoying little voice in his head blessedly silent when he riled up a fight in class, and when he managed to get detention in the next, and when he succeeded in getting kicked _out_ of detention when it rolled around during lunch. 

And since this behavior wasn't exactly _new_ for Dib, none of the teachers saw fit to call home about it, especially since nobody ever answered the phone when they did. Good. Dib's intention wasn't to catch his dad's attention.

It was to wreak as much havoc as possible without him knowing.

After lunch/detention, Dib tried to go to the bathroom, only to be blocked by a salty looking Mikill. Dib smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Ah, c'mon, I actually have to go this time. This is the first time since you guys showed up that I've had my coffee." When neither of them moved, Dib shrugged. "Fair enough. Guess I'll just piss in the trash can."

When he moved towards the hall bin, Mikill grabbed his arm. Dib's eyes snapped up towards those frustrating sunglasses, glimmering. Mikill's hands were gloved. Cold. Dib shivered.

"Go."

Dib complied, letting Mikill moodily usher him into the bathroom and lock the door behind them when Whyatt took the outer post of standing guard. Mikill produced a small, blue square from his pocket and tossed it up. It hit the ceiling and stuck there, a familiar pixelated sheen spreading over the ceiling tiles. Dib scoffed.

Mikill released him, and Dib ducked into a stall to pee, finishing quickly and emerging to wash his hands. The silence was deafening.

"Sorry about yesterday," Dib drawled conversationally. "I had something I needed to take care of. But it was shitty of me to bail on you like that, I know." He turned the sink off and shook out his hands. 

"You almost got me fired," Mikill gruffed after a moment, stiff. 

"Yeah, seems to be a recent talent of mine," Dib muttered bitterly as he pulled down some paper towels. He shook his head as he dried his hands. "Well, in any case, I _am_ sorry. Any way I could make it up to you?" He mused carefully as he skimmed by Mikill to throw the paper towels away, making sure his hand brushed across the man's chest. He turned to face Mikill slightly, eyes hooded.

"You could stay where you're supposed to," Mikill retorted grumpily, but his shoulders had gone tense. Considering.

"Done," Dib said easily, leaning back against the sink. He cocked his head. "I'll stay with you. Anything else?"

Mikill paused, seemingly thinking something over, before ultimately turning to face Dib. He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head down to look at Dib over his sunglasses. "What'd you have in mind, kid?"

His eyes were a bright, electric blue. Dib licked his lips. 

"I think you know."

"And if I do?" Mikill rumbled lowly, challenging.

Dib smirked, elated. He pushed off the sink and stepped towards Mikill. "Well then, I think we could work something out. A mutually beneficial agreement." He placed a hand on the man's stomach and grinned. "Yeah?"

Mikill gently grasped his wrist and tugged his hand off. "Not here."

Dib nodded and stepped back. A flush had dusted his cheeks, but he mostly felt anticipation rather than embarrassment. "Right. I can find us a good place, just give me a day."

Mikill smiled wryly, "You do that."

•⚡•

When Dib came home that afternoon, he was fully prepared to start making preparations to circumvent the house's security system so that he could escape to meet Mikill at a later date. In all honesty, he was just glad he had someone to go to again, so he didn't getlike_this. _Antsy and hollow and numb.

But his plans were completely derailed by his dad sitting on the couch, looking stormy. "_Sit_."

Dib gulped.

He clutched at the strap of his satchel, mind whirling. His dad hadn't been home last night, or that morning, so Dib had just assumed that... 

Well, it didn't matter what he'd assumed. His dad was here now.

(The fact that he was unsure how he felt about that was probably not a good sign.)

"I'm good," Dib managed to say after a moment, narrowly keeping a tremor out of his voice. He felt like he was playing Jeopardy with his emotions--is it anger, is it anxiety? Who knows! But if you get it wrong, you're _fucked_.

"It wasn't a question," Membrane said sharply.

"It didn't sound like one," Dib retorted, taking off his satchel and tossing it next to the armchair. He leaned against the doorframe of the living room and crossed his arms. "What did I do now?" He asked dryly. Internally, he was running through everything he'd done in the past forty-eight hours and frantically searching for something that would make his dad this angry. That little stunt yesterday couldn't have helped, but it also wouldn't have been enough to make him _this _mad. At most, it warranted a 'I'm very disappointed in you son' and a head shake, which didn't feel good either, but it certainly didn't make Dib as uneasy as this silent ire was.

"Do you know what I asked your guards to report to me, specifically?" Professor Membrane questioned after a moment, voice falsely calm. 

Dib shrugged, heart thudding rapidly in his chest. Was it him getting detention? Dib got detention all the time! No... 

Oh God. Dib felt his stomach drop. Was it Zim? Had Whyatt overheard them talking about something and made the connection? Was this his dad realizing that Zim was an alien, years after Dib had actually wanted him too?

His cynical side considered...and then burst into laughter.

'_HA! Are you KIDDING? As if he'd ever take **you** seriously. Even if somebody else mentions it now, shows him irrefutable proof, he wouldn't believe it. Because it came from YOU first. His poor, **insane **son._'

No. That wasn't it. Zim was safe.

"I asked them to tell me if anyone bothered you at school, or made you feel uncomfortable. But I also tasked them with making sure that if you looked like you were about to do something foolish again, that they would let me know immediately."

Dib rolled his eyes. "None of my teachers have done anything wrong, dad! Not since you got James _fired_! And I haven't--"

"Mikill is _married_, Dib," his father interrupted coldly. 

Dib went rigid.

His jaw locked and he looked down, snarling at the ground. "Oh, that fucking _snitch_."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Membrane demanded, fists clenched.

"What else am I supposed to say--that I'm sorry? I'm not. You really want me to lie to you? To tell you that I won't do it again?" Dib drawled, tone caustic and barely covering the defensiveness lingering in it. He let his anger wash over him, because it was much, much easier to deal with than the anxiety. "Because I will. You have absolutely _no _say in who I have sex with," Dib finished with a hiss, fingers clawed into his arms so tightly that it hurt.

Standing, hackles raised, Membrane leveled Dib with a stormy glare. His goggles glinted. "You are not allowed to have sex with men who are twice your age and in a position of authority over you! I am your father and what I say goes!"

Feeling raw and feral, Dib sneered. "Or what?"

Professor Membrane's face darkened. His gloves creaked and he sat slowly back down onto the couch. Taking in a deep breath, he carefully unclenched his fists and laced his fingers together over his lap. "I didn't want to have to do this. This was a solution I have always tried to avoid. But nothing else is getting through to you. You've left me no choice." His dad looked up at him then, face blank and icy. "Come here, Dib."

Dib realized very quickly, then, that at some point in the past conversation, something had changed. He had fucked up. Though how he'd fucked up so badly this time, he couldn't tell. A shiver shot down his spine, and he took a step back. "What...what for?"

"Obviously trying to talk to you like a rational adult isn't working. Monitoring you isn't working, and you're far too stubborn for any sort of grounding or restrictions to work. So I'm afraid that you've left me with only one other avenue of punishment." A gloved hand lifted, fingers crooked. "Now come here."

"You, I mean, you're not--" Dib started, tongue tied. He stepped back again. "You're not _serious,_" He shrilled incredulously.

"If I have to make you, I'll have to double it," came the stern reply. "As of now, it's only ten."

"What the _hell_\--"

"Fifteen, for swearing. Come here, Dib. I won't tell you again."

"I'm not going to--!"

"One."

"Are you seriously fucking _counting--_?"

"Two."

"DAD!"

"Three."

A snap of his fingers, and then Dib was being picked up by thin, ropey metal limbs and bodily thrown into the couch. He let out a high-pitched yelp, flailing before Membrane caught him by the chest. He laid Dib carefully down over his lap while he was still disoriented, clasping one hand around his wrists and the other on his side so Dib couldn't roll off.

Dib spluttered where he was pinned, a panicked expression marring his face. He did indeed try to roll away, only to stop and flail his legs when his dad pressed firmly down on his side to still him. "W-wait, dad, _wait_\--"

"It's only thirty. You could have kept it at fifteen had you listened to me the first time," He interrupted quietly. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Dib. 

Not that Dib was currently paying attention to that. He wriggled again where he was pinned, feeling like a wild animal, cornered at last. "Th-This is insane! You can't seriously--" He choked off the rest of his sentence when a gloved hand slid around to move the flare of his trenchcoat aside and hook a finger into the belt loops of his jeans. "_Wait_\--!"

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. At any moment the walls would fall down to reveal his classmates and he would be naked, cementing this as a horrible dream. 

His jeans were tugged down and he squawked in alarm, blanching. He flailed further, legs kicking desperately. "Okay--OKAY! I get it, I-I won't do it again! Just quit messing around!"

There was a pause. Dib let out a breath. Then his boxers were yanked down as well. "Five more, for lying to me."

"I-I'm not," Dib protested weakly. His stomach had twisted itself into an intricate, sickening knot. The elastic of his boxers bit into his thighs just beneath the swell of his ass, the denim of his jeans pressing the lining further into his skin. "Okay, I know what I said, but dad, it isn't that big of a--"

SMACK.

Dib immediately went quiet, startled. He blinked rapidly at the couch cushion in front of him, ass stinging faintly as the offending hand was pulled back again. It wasn't a light hit, but it also wasn't a particularly hard one either, considering _who _had been the one to deliver it. 

Getting spanked was not a sensation that Dib was unfamiliar with. His proclivities tended to lead to pretty kinky shit, more often than not. He could tell someone who knew what they were doing from someone who had no damn clue where to start. 

And his dad was not only the latter (regardless of the fact that the situations were _very_ different), but he was...hesitant. His hands, gloved or not, were made of solid fucking metal, and he'd never done this type of thing before. He'd never had a need to. He could've seriously hurt Dib if he'd tried, you know, _at all_. But instead, it was like getting play-wacked with a wooden spoon. Because he wasn't trying to hurt Dib.

_He wasn't trying to hurt him._

Dib's hands fisted in the couch cushions where they were pinned when the next hit came, a humiliated flush dusting his cheeks. 

'_He doesn't want to hurt me. Not really. He legitimately thinks this is the only thing left for him to do. He...he cares. He does care about me. He's scared._' The little voice was back.

The other one, the cynic, was currently as frazzled as Dib and could only address one thing in all of that. '_Scared. Alright, that's fair. Especially considering the fact that **this **is about to fuck up our relationship even further.'_

While his inner demons bickered, Dib was clutching at the couch, bowing his head, and biting his tongue as he silently prayed to any deity that might be listening that the familiar warmth bubbling in his abdomen wouldn't lead to his dick. Another hit had him lurching forward with a small cry, ears burning red as he bit his lip so hard he bled. Oh God. This wasn't happening. This could not be happening right now.

Horror swept through Dib's body as he felt his conditioned, traitorous dick begin to perk up. Oh no, oh no, not _now. _

Another crack of rubber gloved metal against the swell of his ass, and Dib keened sharply in pain, blush spreading down his chest as his cock twitched in his pants. Desperately, Dib grappled for anything and everything that would turn him off, thinking wildly of unsexy things, like history, Ms. Bitters, dead puppies, Mothman (wait shit no), _anything_. It was no use. Every time he would feel his erection begin to wilt, that punishing hand would strike him again and the cycle would begin anew.

Dib's chest heaved, body frozen where he was bent over his father's knee as he frantically tried to decide what would be worse; lifting his hips to ensure that his dick wouldn't give him away, at the risk or seeming like he was pushing up into the paddling, or pressing his hips down to get away from the sensation and end up rubbing himself all over his dad's leg. 

Dib bit his lip again, blood flooding his mouth as he stifled another cry. He couldn't see it, but he imagined his ass was bright red, maybe even welted up with handprints. He'd most likely feel them well into tomorrow. Dib swallowed. Imagining it wasn't helping his current issue.

Scrubbing his face against the couch cushion with a muffled whine, Dib's hearing honed in on the soft sound of his father's voice, counting shakily under his breath. 

"Nine...ten...eleven..."

It was those little numbers in that odd tone of voice that kept Dib calm enough to refrain from struggling again, grounding him in his whirlwind of panic. It settled something in his chest, that raw and rabid thing inside him curling into a ball and whimpering weakly. To Dib's utter horror, he felt his eyes prick with tears, vision blurring hotly as his chest swelled up with painful knots that filled him with an ache so strong he felt it in his _teeth_.

'_He cares_,' the voices crooned mournfully. '_He cares he cares he cares--_'

Dib grit his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. Saline clung to his lashes, crystalline. Why now? _Why now?_ Just when he was starting to feel a little less empty, a little less desperate. Of course his dad would come in and reopen old wounds. He'd done it before.

But this...it felt different. Like he had taken the time to stop and look at what he was doing, to notice that it hurt. It felt like Professor Membrane was trying to messily stick band-aids on a severed limb, doing his best to fix the problem but falling short every time. 

And Dib couldn't help but hate and love him for it.

It was ridiculous, feeling like this over a _spanking_, especially when Dib had experienced far more brutal ones--his poor body was in a tizzy, conflicting signals firing off all at once as his ass stung and his chest ached and his cock throbbed. It made his head spin, confused and exhausted and far too turned on.

(Strangely enough, the taboo of it all had missed him altogether, overshadowed by unhinged emotions and burning humiliation).

A strangled half-sob escaped Dib's lips before he could stop it, and he twisted the raspy fabric of the couch in his hands, disoriented and dizzy. The hits paused, and the cool rubber of his dad's gloves rested hesitantly on the red and raised skin of Dib's ass, a paradoxical balm against the soreness. His thumb gently stroked across the smarting flesh, and Dib's breath hitched, head whipping to the side with wide-eyes. 

From this angle, he could only see the high collar of his father's labcoat and the curve of his cheekbone, the rest of his face just outside of Dib's peripheral vision. There was moment of stillness, everything feeling overwhelmingly soft and breakable. Dib didn't dare breathe.

Then it snapped, and Dib's pants were abruptly jerked back up around his hips, a yelp chirping out of his mouth as the rough denim scrubbed over his battered cheeks. He was released and set unsteadily on his feet. 

"Go to your room," His dad said tempestously, gazing firmly at the floor.

Dib didn't need to be told twice.

He fled the room as quickly as he could, abandoning his satchel and hastily swiping at his eyes, corybantic. Dib swept up the stairs, the thing in his chest wailing bereftly the further he got from the living room.

It made him feel _wild. _

Slamming into his room, breathing hard, Dib kicked the door shut and immediately collapsed to his knees with one arm braced against the wall. Shoving his pants down again, Dib gasped as he grabbed a handful of his ass cheeks and squeezed, the other hand flying down to grasp his drooling cock. Keening as fire raced through his veins from the abuse on his already bruised hindquarters, Dib stroked over his cock rapidly with high and broken whispers of, "Fuck, fuck, **fuck**!" spilling from his bloodied lips.

Dib panted and his eyes fluttered as they landed on the hole still carved into his wall, in the jagged shape of his doorknob. He dug his nails into his welted flesh and let out a frenetic moan, coming all over the rug in front of his door.

Collapsing backwards and letting out a weak cry when he landed on his rear, Dib felt a single, stray tear fall from his lashes, streaking down his flushed cheek. Eyes glassy, Dib's chest heaved. 

"Damnit." He clenched his jaw, agonized. "_Damnit_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dib, honey, it's not that deep.
> 
> And don't be too hard on Membrane, you guys, he bought an outdated parenting book from the 1950s and uses it as a magic 8 ball.


	3. Alphabet Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prof.'s POV from last chap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally twice as long as the first and to that I say--FUCK. But hey, it's here :3

Professor Membrane was no stranger to all-nighters. In fact, that was why he had played around with the idea of replacing blood cells with tiny coffee beans. The caffeine boost would be near indefinite and allow him to focus on more important things than bodily functions--science waited for no man, after all! He was proud to call himself a man that could keep up with it. 

But this...this was the first night in a while that he had avoided sleep simply to avoid it. His mind felt fuzzy and grayed, filled with static that cluttered and spat all over his thoughts until they were nothing but a garbled mess. 

He couldn't get it out of his head. He couldn't get it _out_ of his _head_.

Gloved hands shaking as he attempted to draw out meaningless equations, Professor Membrane curled over the desk in front of him until his forehead pressed against the cool metal. He let out a shaky breath, trying his best to focus on the project he'd started in front of him. 

Just as he was beginning to fade back into focus, his monitor beeped and alerted him to activity on Dib's phone. His head whipped to stare, rapt, at the screens, unable to help himself. Several files were placed into the deleted folder in rapid succession, followed by a text sent 'Space Boy'. It was more of those odd emojis again, and with a furrowed brow, Professor Membrane resolved absently to find out the meaning to them. 

A quick glance at the clock showed that it was close to the time for Dib to be at school. Was he just now waking up? What had he been doing all night to keep him so late?

Professor Membrane paused, then let his head hit the desk again. 

'_Or,_' he thought wryly, annoyed at himself. '_His alarm just didn't go off. Given that it's **on his phone**._'

"He'll be late," Professor Membrane realized after a moment. He straightened after a moment and gave the screen one last critical look before turning to trudge up the stairs to the kitchen. He'd look at those files when he came back from dropping Dib off, if only to make sure it wasn't something serious. Normally, Professor Membrane would never have thought that of one of his children, but...

Well, the past day and a half had kind of tipped his expectations on their head. 

He entered the kitchen and strode into the living room, where he could see Dib fiddling agitatedly with the door panel. Professor Membrane saw the screen flicker out, and Dib swore, slamming his fist into the wall. Before he could hit anything else, or attempt to futilely hack into the house defenses, Professor Membrane swept up behind him and grabbed his wrist to guide it away from the panel. 

Dib went abruptly rigid, head whipping around to stare at him. The light from the kitchen glanced off his glasses and the sudden glare shielded his eyes from view. It made him look blank faced in an odd, uncomfortable way. It reminded the Professor of earlier days, and even earlier mistakes. He didn't like it. 

Pressing his hand to the panel and shifting forward slightly, he allowed himself to breathe once the lenses turned transparent once more, exposing Dib's wide, glazed eyes and a furrowed brow. Toast dangled out of his mouth, forgotten. He looked very young, in that moment. Too young.

Professor Membrane swallowed around the knot in his throat. "I'll drive you. You'll be late if you walk." He glanced down at Dib's side and felt a flicker of something he couldn't name dart through his chest at the sight of a familiar briefcase. "Is that all you're taking? You don't have a bookbag?"

"Everything's in my locker," Dib said stiffly, muffled around the bread between his lips. He had locked up like a deer in the headlights.

"...Alright then," He sighed, gripping Dib by the shoulders to steer him outside to the car. Parking Dib beside the passenger side door, Professor Membrane rounded the car to open the driver door. "Come on," He urged when it didn't look like Dib would move.

Dib blinked, looking every bit of ridiculous with half a piece of toast still hanging out of his mouth, before slowly slipping into the car. 

The car ride was silent, Dib slowly chewing through the remnants of his toast as he seemed to stare through the dashboard of the car, brow furrowed. He clutched his silly little briefcase to his chest like a shield, knuckles white around its edge. Several times, Professor Membrane considered breaking the silence--he had so many things he wanted to say, and yet no way to voice them--but the moment felt delicate, somehow. There was something soft in it that he wasn't sure he wanted to break.

Anything he would mention now would revolve around one thing, and any small talk would be stilted and awkward. Professor Membrane realized, then, that he couldn't remember the last time he and his son had had a proper conversation. One that wasn't just old arguments brought back to the surface or muttered platitudes in passing.

He...he couldn't remember. Well, he remembered once when Dib was thirteen, having to sit down and talk to him about his health because he'd taken to holing himself up in his room and not leaving for days. Professor Membrane remembered that the conversation hadn't ended _well_\--with Dib screaming about aliens and the Professor concernedly asking if Dib thought he needed to see a doctor about his condition--but everything had worked out in the end. Dib had stopped staying in his room and went outside more. But _surely_, that hadn't been the last conversation they'd had. That was years ago! Surely not.

And yet, Professor Membrane couldn't recall a time after that when he'd spoken with his son. _To_ him, certainly. But not with him. 

Professor Membrane swallowed. 

His question to Dib from yesterday resurfaced to mock him, teasing at the edge of his mind and biting back viciously whenever he tried to bat it away.

_What could you possibly have gained from a relationship like that?_

They arrived at the school in silence, and Dib stumbled dazedly out of the car as Professor Membrane gave the metaphorical reigns over to the guards standing by the walkway of the high school. Dib swayed forward for a moment, eyes glazed over, and Professor Membrane thought he might fall. He shifted forward to catch him if that were the case.

The movement seemed to jar Dib, his eyes sharpening at once as he stepped abruptly back, towards the guards. Jaw clenched and still looking a little out of it, Dib spun on heel and strode towards the doors with not a word. Not even a half-hearted goodbye.

Professor Membrane ignored the twinge in his chest at the dismissal. He ignored the voice that said he deserved it even harder.

He watched the guards he'd chosen spin and hurriedly follow after his son, before turning himself and climbing back in his car. He drove home with an absent mind, the passenger side feeling somehow unbearably empty and tension filled at the same time. Trudging slowly back into the house, Professor Membrane stopped briefly in the kitchen to request a plate of toast and jam from Foodio before he went back down to the lab. Tugging his collar down, he munched on his raspberry flavored toast as he descended to the lab once more, feeling marginally less horrible by the time he wiped the crumbs from his face and settled back over his project. 

But then he caught the small red notification bubble hovering in the screen out of the corner of his eye. Swallowing hard, he turned to face the screen.

**10 new items in 'Deleted' folder. Review?**

Should he? It could be something harmless. It could be nothing at all. 

It could also be something even worse.

Clenching his fists and sighing through his nose, he slid over to the screen and clicked on the review button. He'd just peek and make sure that it really was nothing, that Dib wasn't hiding anything else important, and then he'd put it away. He didn't plan on monitoring Dib's every move, though it was tempting. The thought of wrapping his son in bubble wrap and hoarding him away from the outside world--that was always much more dangerous than he seemed to remember--well, it was becoming increasingly appealing. 

Shaking himself of the notion, Professor Membrane turned his attention to the list of files in front of him. 

He clicked the button to switch the files from column to rows, and the screen was abruptly flooded with pictures and a single video. His mouse was over the middle picture, and it abruptly flooded the screen in preview. He choked on his own spit.

It was a picture of Dib, the blue tile of his bathroom dulled with steam and the black and green shower curtain shoved to the side to display an expanse of dark, scarred skin glistening with water and strewn with patches of lathered soap. Dib's hair was clearly soaked, cowlick drooped forward to shadow his face, eyes half-lidded and amused. There was something black smudged at the corners of them--eyeliner? But that didn't matter, because Dib had one arm propped on the shower wall, leaning his temple there as well and shielding half his face, and the other hand was laid limp just behind his cocked hip and soaped up thighs, putting both hands out of commission. 

_Who was taking the picture?_

That odd, heavy fizzing feeling was back in the Professor's gut. He clenched his jaw and his hand slid to the left, unbidden. Another picture bloomed in place of the last. 

This one Dib had clearly taken himself. It was at an awkward angle, but it got the message through well enough. Too well. Dib had positioned the camera down between his legs and angled it up as he spread his knees and tipped his head at the lens. He wore a pair of black panties that struggled to cover anything significant, '_**Eat Me**_' emblazoned on the front in glittery gold. The way Dib has his head cocked put the strip of black leather around his throat on display, a golden buckle glinting brightly in the lowlight of his bedroom. His eyes glimmered with a hungry sort of mischief, a smirk on his lips.

Professor Membrane thought, absently, that it was no wonder that Dib was able to ensnare people as thoroughly as he did when he looked like this. 

The next picture was one that Dib clearly didn't take, as he had his back to the camera, the part of his expression that was visible sleepy and off-guard. He was dressed in a rumpled, white dress shirt a size or two too big for him, a red plaid tie still half tied around one of his wrists as the other lifted a mug to his lips. Sunlight filtered in through the window he was standing at, beaming through the white fabric and making it glow sheer. The picture wasn't as risque as the other two, but for some reason, the frothy mix of indiscernible emotions in the Professor's stomach soured at the sight of it. 

The following picture was almost the same as the last, save for the fact that Dib had wised up to the fact that he was being photographed and had struck a pose; one leg bent to the side, one arm tossed over his shoulder, and the other tugging at his mussed hair as he peeked over his shoulder at the camera, tongue sticking out with a playful wink. The pose caused the shirt to ride up over the swell of his...hindquarters, and show off several blackening bruises at his hips and the backs of his legs. 

Despite the fact that marks must've hurt, especially given their coloring, Dib didn't seem bothered by them at all. In fact, he almost seemed to _like_ them. 

Perhaps the past few photos had given Professor Membrane a false sense of security, because Dib was at least partially clothed in them. But whatever the case, he was decidedly not prepared for the next picture to exhibit a close-up shot of a bright pink, silicone toy disappearing between two tanned, finger bruised cheeks. A shiny substance that was clearly lube dripped from the base of the toy, two slick stained fingers holding the swells of muscle apart to give the camera a clear shot. The toy was rather thin, but ridged every inch or so by small bulbs, like veins. It was only halfway in. 

Frantic and face burning, Professor Membrane scrambled to click the next file, only to immediately regret it. 

It was the video.

The setting was dim, but it was obviously Dib's bedroom. Dib was splayed out on the bed, his legs pinned up and his wrists tied to the headboard as a large, calloused hand worked slowly between his legs. The camera shook, shifted, and then there was a breathless chuckle behind it as Dib hissed and squirmed.

"Oh fuck yeah, babydoll, look at that."

The camera shifted downwards to where the man's fingers were leisurely pumping in and out of Dib's hole. The lens focused, and he tugged his fingers out, a fount of sticky white dribbling out with them. It was obvious what it was.

Another chuckle, then the fingers were back, scooping up the mess and pushing it back in. "First time anybody's ever cum in you. Mm, a milestone, baby. It deserves some recognition."

The camera panned back up to where Dib was shifting restlessly on the covers, wild-eyed and flushed. "Please, Daddy, let me cum. I've been so good, _please_ let me cum," Dib pleaded, yanking in a token effort to free himself.

"Don't worry, baby, I've got you," the voice cooed, before bracing the camera against something so he could more effectively fuck his fingers into Dib's hole. The in and out motion turned rapid, pointed, and Dib's back arched, a loud moan torn from his throat as his muscles went taut.

"Oh God, oh fuck, Daddy, _yes_! So good, so good Daddy, don't stop," Dib gasped out, mewling and writhing in pleasure as he was fingerfucked into oblivion.

"Yeah, there you go, sweetheart, cum for Daddy," the voice crooned, and Dib stiffened and came with a scream, body locked up and spasming with orgasm. The other party hadn't even gone near his cock. He'd come untouched.

The man didn't stop, continuing to piston his fingers into Dib until he sobbed and writhed, panting and crying out as he came yet again, dry. A laugh resonated from behind the camera, and the hand retreated from between Dib's legs, trailing through the splatter of white staining his abdomen before tapping at his lips. Dib blearily sucked them into his mouth to lick them clean.

"Good boy."

The video cut out, leaving only black behind. The grayed reflection of blank goggles and rigid posture stared back at him. Professor Membrane remained staring at the screen for a long while, unable to make himself move. In an astounding display of metaphorical blue screen, his brain had miraculously stopped working. He came faintly back to himself to realize that he'd crushed the metal of the desk beneath his fingers, gloved hands trembling around crumpled steel. He snatched his hands away and stumbled away from the desk entirely, bumping into a chair and sending it skidding loudly across the floor. Jumping away from it, Professor Membrane's chest heaved, spooked.

That was...

He didn't have the words to describe such a thing. Another astounding discovery--Professor Membrane was capable of being rendered _speechless_.

Running a hand through his hair and pinning his cowlick back, he let out a thin breath. He glanced back at the black square of screen, expression pinched. Eyes narrowing into a glare, incensed at both himself for being so rattled and the subject matter that had done the rattling. He leaned forward and yanked the keyboard closer to him, before clearing the files away and pulling up the website of the college Dib was taking extra classes at. Locating the principal's email, he composed a (slightly aggressive) note suggesting (demanding) the immediate removal of one James Kattabek from their staff. That it would be in their best interest to comply, before the problem surrounding the offending professor extended to the entire institution.

The threat was clear, even if Professor Membrane had refrained from using his personal email. Membrane Labs was not an entity people refused.

It was hardly two minutes before he received a reply; a hastily composed apology with an assurance that Professor Kattabek would be promptly fired and never allowed to set foot on the premises again. His ire cooled slightly at the affirmation, and he huffed, flexing his hands idly as he pondered what to do next.

He pondered returning to his earlier project for a moment, but was abruptly hit with a wave of fatigue so strong his bones ached at the very thought. 

"It seems the strict force of sleep will be yielded to another day," he grumbled, a bit bitterly, as he cast his mindless project a baleful look before turning up the stairs. One day, he would succeed in circumventing the fragile human immune system. 

But today was not that day. 

He ascended to his sparsely used bedroom, resolutely _not_ looking at Dib's slightly ajar door. Shutting the door and not bothering to turn on the lights, Professor Membrane barely got his boots and goggles off before he collapsed onto the bed and was dragged rudely away from the land of the conscious. 

•⚡•

A hand curled around the curve of his shoulder, tugging insistently as a smile was pressed against his temple. "Hey there, Professor," a voice murmured, amused. "It's been a while since you've stayed long enough to see me."

Familiarity overwhelmed him, and he fluttered his eyes open to see--darkness. He was still in his bedroom, the lights off. There was a figure hovering over him, but he wasn't alarmed. This was familiar.

The figure drew back slightly, hair tickling his face as they grinned. He drew his hands, flesh and blood, up their back and pulled them down into a kiss. They wriggled on top of him, a solid weight, and let out a pleased hum. They turned their face away to gasp in a breath, and moaned as he started down their neck, sucking and biting as he went. "I've been waiting for you for _months_. Since November. Not that you'd know, of course. Far too busy for me, aren't you?" 

"I missed you, Precious," he pleaded, a strange desperation rising in his chest. He drew his nose drown their sternum and cupped the small of their back like they were made of glass.

"Did you?" They mused in a surprised tone. Lithe fingers slid into his hair. "_Show me how much you missed me,_" came the dulcet purr.

He was in no state to deny them. 

Shifting them both, he slid up into them with relative ease, like slipping on a glove. A perfect fit. "You'll be late."

"Can't handle it, old man?" They sneered, arching their back into him to get him moving. When he did, their head lolled back. "_Oh, yes_...besides. We both know after this you'll go right back to pretending I don't exist."

His skin was on _fire_, like he was being burned alive but in the best of ways. Clawed hands grasped his shoulders and pressed, drawing blood. The shadowy figure above him twisted, sighed, and moaned. He dug his fingers into their hips and pulled, eliciting a soft gasp. "You're perfect." 

There was a chuckle, bitter, and this time he thought it sounded more familiar. "Right. That's why you only pay attention to me when I've done something wrong." A pause, then they leaned closer, a brilliant grin glittering in the lowlight, sharp and cynical. "Or maybe, when _you've_ done something wrong? Tell me, Professor, what have you been up to?" They purred, brushing that grin against his jaw and setting sparkling, sharp teeth into his skin. "What sins have you running to me this time?" 

The blackness swirled, miasmic, and there was a glimmer of gold. Anger, searing and thick, burst to life in his chest so abruptly it made his head spin. The claws and fangs of the figure stop him disappeared, and he grasped their waist hard enough to bruise as he rolled them over, pinning the shadow to the mattress. 

They let out a startled noise, eyes wide, only to toss their head back when he snapped his hips forward roughly. His hands glinted, steel and death, as he wrapped his fingers around their throat. They moaned.

"Who are you," he snarled lowly as the face finally cleared. "To tell _me_ about sin?"

Dib blinked teary eyes up at him, defenseless at last. He tipped his head and his lips parted in a agonized plea. "_Daddy_."

Professor Membrane awoke with a jolt, bolting upright in his bed with a gasp, sweat beading on his brow and an uncomfortable tightness in his slacks. Scrambling for the lamp on his nightstand, the Professor hastily flicked it on. Light flooded the dark room, banishing any lingering, shadowy succubi in the corners. He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a shuddering breath.

That was--_he_ was--

Professor Membrane swallowed thickly and pressed his palm against the seam of his trousers, pushing against the swell there. He shivered. Wrenching his hand away, he tugged at the collar of his lab coat until it unbuttoned half way and left him room to breathe, chest heaving as he curled over his knees.

No, this was...this was okay! Dreams were simply concepts the mind was struggling to process, and the people in them weren't people at all, but symbols of traits and skills and flaws.

So, having a-a sex dream about his _son_ didn't have to mean anything at all! Just that he was under a lot of stress, probably. He wasn't as proficient in the mind sciences as he was in the other fields, which he mourned when he was concerned Dib was slowly losing his mind, but he knew enough to know that dreams only meant something if he acted upon them. Which he certainly _wouldn't_ be.

Grappling firmly for literally any other train of thought, the Professor couldn't help but recall the last time he'd had sex. It had been quite a while. He remembered a woman with long, black hair and a charming smile, and a mediocre hotel room that he'd spent the night with her in. That was when Dib and Gaz were still small, perhaps twelve or thirteen, and he'd been out on a trip to a research division in France. A rare moment of boredom and silence, and then that woman had come up to him and begun to flirt and bat her eyes at him the way most women did when they discovered who he was. Normally, he dismissed them or pretended he didn't notice, but he'd been bored and pent up, and it had been nice to destress for a night before the sluggish meetings of the morning.

He'd been absently rocking his palm against the ridge of hardness beneath his pants, but when he noticed, he didn't stop. This was fine! There was nothing wrong with relieving himself of an ache, even if how that ache came about was a little...unsettling. He merely had to think of something else! Anything that would take his mind off of it.

Eventually he settled on the woman from Paris, closing his eyes and recalling her soft curves and sweet-smelling hair as he slipped his gloved hand beneath the waistband of his slacks. Tugging his stiff cock out of the confines of his briefs, Professor Membrane let out a breath and began to slowly stroke himself to the thought of pale skin, supple breasts, and blood red lips. He remembered that she smelled like lilacs and champagne, though he couldn't recall exactly what her name had been. Warmth wound lazily through his abdomen as the memories faded into things he wasn't sure actually happened.

Like grasping the headboard so hard it broke. Holding her hips so tightly they turned black and blue. Leaning forward and biting at the crook of her neck as she moaned lowly into his ear.

His breathing hastened, puffing harshly out of his lips as he quickened the movements of his hand and arched his hips up into it, back pressed into the post of his bed. Thumbing under the head, the Professor let out a shuddering breath and let his head loll back.

A warm body beneath him, around him, clutching at him with blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Rough whines crooning into his ear as he slammed his hips forward. It was almost like he was back there in the memory. He could feel giving flesh between his hands, breath against his ear. A chuckle pressed into his neck, low and breathy. Murmuring in his ear in a voice he wasn't...entirely sure was right. He couldn't make out the words, but it sent shivers down his spine.

Smooth rubber rolled over the cusp of his cock. He was so close. What had his partner's name been? Debra? Debbie?

A flash of parted lips, half-lidded golden eyes, and black nails clawing down his shoulders--his vision went white and he moaned. "_Dib._"

A swell of sensation crested over him, dousing him in heat as he climaxed all over his stomach, staining the fabric of his shirt with dots of white. Chest heaving, Professor Membrane's eyes fluttered and he let out a ragged breath, blissed out.

There was an indescribable moment of silence.

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh _no_.

The high of his orgasm vanished, and Professor Membrane slammed back into reality with a cry of denial. Releasing his spent cock and nearly falling off the bed trying to yank his trousers up, Professor Membrane started up a steady chant of, "No no no no no--" with no end in sight.

He did not just climax to the thought of his son directly after having a wet dream about said son. No. He _didn't_. Absolutely not.

(Explain that with science, Professor. Blame it on the 'stress' again.)

Professor Membrane clutched at his skull and hissed. "Fuck."

•⚡•

Hurrying back down to the lab in a desperate attempt to distract himself from what he'd just done, Professor Membrane vowed vehemently to never sleep again. Nothing good ever came of it.

Making a beeline for the half-finished...whatever it was that he'd been trying to make before he had gone back upstairs (still not thinking about it), Professor Membrane paused when he caught sight of the screen next to it. There was a small box open on it, reading '**Abrupt location change detected. Activate security protocols?**'

Professor Membrane swallowed roughly. On one hand, Dib's safety was his top priority, and if something had happened to him because the Professor had made a questionable decision, he didn't think he could handle it. On the other hand...

With a sigh, Professor Membrane moved over to the desk and gave the chip permission to take over Dib's phone.

Immediately, there was a muffled shuffling noise, like fabric, and Professor Membrane had a small stroke before he realized the camera was showing him the inner lining of Dib's pocket. Letting out a jagged breath, Professor Membrane reached over to fix the sound settings. He jolted slightly when Dib's voice suddenly crescendoed and the phone was plucked out of his pocket and thrown somewhere.

_"--lighting up!"_

A ceiling covered in wires and the side of an arm clad in pink replaced dark denim, and Professor Membrane realized that Dib must have been at his foreign friend's house. Though how he'd gotten away from the guards the Professor had assigned to him was a mystery. He'd have to contact them before tomorrow to assess the damage.

_"I specifically asked him not to go after James, I told him that **I** was the one who started it, and what does he do? The EXACT OPPOSITE! No one would even look at me, Zim, they were all so spooked. Ethan and Weel acted like acknowledging my existence would be a death sentence, and Phred damn near shit himself when I walked into the classroom."_

_"Understandable. They were all in a similar position to James regarding you, and if he could be prosecuted for it, why couldn't they? An example was made, and it was effective."_

Professor Membrane's lips thinned. He had suspected, but he hadn't known. Of course Kattabek wouldn't have been the first. He noted the names in the back of his mind for later use. The fact that Dib had gone back to the campus looking for Kattabek shouldn't have surprised him either, and it didn't, really. It was just disappointing to be proven correct in this instance.

_"An example didn't need to be made!"_

_"Was there anything in it for the Professor if he did not make an example of your mate? Did you propose any sort of compromise in exchange for him leaving James be?"_

_"I--no. No, I didn't."_

_"Well, there you go. Zim supposes that if you had promised your parental unit something he desired in exchange, he would have been more lenient."_

Don't go there, don't go there, don't go there, not thinking about it, not _thinking about it_\--

_"At least, that is the Irken way of doing things."_

_"But I shouldn't **have** to promise him anything for him to not just ruin somebody's life because of something **I** did! That's just completely illogical!"_

_"It must not be to him."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"I mean, he **is** your Tallest."_

The silence following that statement was deafening. When Dib spoke again, it was sharp.

_"What?"_

_"The Professor is the Dib's Tallest."_

_"No, Zim, that's not how humans work. He's my dad."_

_"And he is also your Tallest! Are you telling me you did not know he was your Tallest?"_

_"Stop saying that! He's nothing like--"_

_"He is the tallest authority figure in the Dib's life, and he dictates everything about your life from your decisions to your feelings to your thoughts. Did he not assert his will over you by forbidding you from seeing your previous mate? And are you not only taking those college courses because you wanted to please him? Zim knows for a fact that you HATE Combinatorics."_

_"That's because it's fucking stupid! I already **know** all the stuff they're trying to cram down my throat!"_

_"And yet you are taking the classes anyway. Because your loyalty and need for your parental unit's approval demands it."_

More, terrible silence. Professor Membrane's stomach had made a home in his shoes, clenching with misplaced guilt. He didn't know what a 'Tallest' was, but Dib's friend seemed very adamant that the Professor was one. It did not sound like a good thing either.

_"He is your Tallest, Dib."_

_"...I hate you sometimes, Space Boy._

Dib, if nothing else, sounded fond. And terribly _hurt_.

_"And I you. Now either give me that if you're done with it or get your filthy, gargantuan head out of my base."_

_"I still need to seal it to GIR's inner wiring, Zim. And my head's not big!"_

_"Your **ego**, then."_

_"Why you--"_

A shriek, something hitting fabric, and the phone was tossed up and fumbled, pinwheeling through the air and landing across the room, face down. The sounds of fighting were muffled, but even Professor Membrane could tell there was no real malice behind it. Pressing the ESC button, he closed down the advanced security protocols. He closed his eyes as the screen faded back into Dib's lockscreen, with that blurred, ecstatic expression down in the corner. 

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Professor Membrane slowly opened his eyes. He backed away from the desk, clenched his fists by his sides, and turned on heel. The only thing he could do now was focus on the task at hand.

There was only so much emails could do, after all.

•⚡•

Professor Membrane exited the college campus at a little after one in the morning. Unlike with Kattabek, the school board had a little more of a problem with firing almost half their professors on hearsay alone. But a lot of yelling, threatening, and hacking into his own cellular network to retrieve evidence later, and he was satisfied to know that every teacher that Dib had deigned to seduce was off the roster for the foreseeable future. 

He may have also blacklisted them on all Membrane Labs products. Which now ranged from cellphones, to laptops, to even calculators. It would be a harsh trial to try and find anything of a different brand. It was less than they deserved. It wasn't enough.

...Professor Membrane begrudgingly admitted that he may have a bit of a wrathful streak.

And speaking of, he needed to speak to the guards he'd hired about why Dib had not been where he was supposed to be. Pulling out his own phone, Professor Membrane saw that he had several missed calls and a twelve text messages. All from a Mr. Williams. Raising a brow, he clicked on the messages first. 

'**We've lost him, Professor. We can't find him.**'

'**His car is gone.**'

'**Sir?**'

All the others were of the same vein as well. Perhaps the Professor shouldn't have left his phone on silent. 

Selecting Mr. Williams' contact, he pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, before a groggy, rough voice coughed out a slurred, "'Lo?"

"Mr. Williams," Professor Membrane began calmly. "I understand that you were unable to accomplish your task of keeping an eye on my son."

"Mister Membrane," Williams yelped. There was a shuffling noise, and then a thud. "Sorry, honey. Sir, I tried to get ahold of you when it happened, and we searched everywhere--" he blurted out as a faint voice in the back murmured a confused 'Mikill?'.

"By all accounts I should let you go and find someone more competent." That cut Williams off rather quickly. Professor Membrane huffed through his nose and thumbed against the device in his pocket. "But I don't have time to search for different guards. Dib has never liked being restricted, and I know better now than to think he'll sit quietly while I look for new hires. Meet me at the Labs in an hour with Mr. Meller. I'll give you your revised instructions then."

Without waiting for a response, Professor Membrane hung up. He was aware that the hour was ungodly, but he was coming to a limit of tolerance he didn't previously know he had and he couldn't bring himself to feel any sympathy for Williams, just like he couldn't tamp down the downright murderous rage that welled up inside him at the thought of Kattabek and the others. The Professor was currently dealing with far more emotions than he normally had to. He didn't like it. At all.

Heaving in a breath, Professor Membrane returned to his car and drove calmly to Membrane Labs, absently revising what he wanted to say once he got there and listening to the weather forecast. Clear skies and moderate temperatures, all week. If he believed in luck, he'd say perhaps his was turning around. But he didn't believe in luck, and he certainly didn't believe in _weather omens_, so he didn't.

Professor Membrane arrived at Membrane Labs, parked his car, and swept inside. It was busy and bustling, as always, but the Professor had half expected it to be in more disarray than normal. He had been gone for two days, after all, and in his experience any time he wasn't hovering over some experiment or another, it went horribly wrong. 

(It had taken almost a month to rebuild the block last time an intern had set the synthetic bees loose by accident.)

Professor Membrane had come to associate his absence with diaster.

But as he walked into the ML building, he looked around to find that while yes, things were slightly more hectic, it wasn't to the extent that he expected it would be.

Someone came rushing up to him, and for a moment Professor Membrane heaved an expectant sigh, prepared for a report on some failure or another--but that wasn't what happened at all. The intern ran up to him, chirped, "Glad your back Professor, just in time! Sign this!" and shoved a clipboard at him. It was stacked with papers that gave the chemical unit permission to use the level four experimentation rooms.

Professor Membrane blinked. "Ah, yes. Of course." He slowly took the pen from the intern and signed the bottom line with a flourish. "Did anything interesting happen while I was... preoccupied?"

The intern--his name tag read 'Todd' in squiggly letters--took the clipboard back with a smile. "Oh, no, Professor! Everything has actually been running very smoothly, given that you made Ms. Amanda your second. Though I think she may be enjoying it a little _too_ much." He rolled his eyes and gave the Professor a bright look. "Good to see you, Professor!"

With that, he was off down the halls again, lab coat sweeping behind him. Bewildered and more than slightly put off, Professor Membrane shook his head and continued on towards the main room beyond the foyer. 

Williams and Meller were waiting for him there.

"Sir," Williams said stiffly, standing like a soldier even while his hair stood in disarray. Meller's was impeccable, as always. "We understand you have some new instructions for us?"

"Yes. Follow me, gentlemen. Not out here." He turned and crooked his fingers in a gesture for them to follow. Not waiting to see if they did so, Professor Membrane strode quickly across the room and produced a key card from his pocket to open one of the metal doors carved into the domed steel of the walls. It slid open with a shrill beep and they piled inside the small office on the other side. 

Maneuvering to sit at the chair behind the cluttered desk in front of them, Professor Membrane folded his hands in front of him. The other two remained standing. He didn't ask them to sit down.

"What, exactly, happened yesterday? I understand that my son is more than a handful, but that is why I entrusted him to you two. I thought you would be able to do your jobs well; keep him in line. Would you tell me why I am discovering that I was mistaken?"

"Sir--" Williams began, only to have Meller cut him off.

"He crawled out of the restroom ceiling, sir." When Professor Membrane merely raised his eyebrows, Meller continued. "He asked to use the restroom, went into the stall, set a speaker of running water down, and then climbed out through the ceiling tiles."

"Whyatt!" Williams hissed under his breath, chiding. "I know it sounds ludicrous, sir, but--"

"No," Professor Membrane interrupted, suddenly very, very tired. "That...sounds like the exact sort of thing Dib would do. I shouldn't have let him take that puerile little briefcase of his with him." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. Lifting his gaze back up to the two men across from him, he studied them shrewdly for a moment. "...Mikill, was it?"

Williams jolted, tense. "Yes sir."

Professor Membrane took the pager from his pocket and set it down in front of him on the desk. "I imagine you have a family, Mikill? A wife and children?"

Williams tensed further. "Yes, sir."

"And you, Whyatt?"

"Husband, sir," came the quiet reply. "And only one child."

Professor Membrane leaned back. "Well, I suppose you can understand where I'm coming from then. If you want to keep your positions, then your new rules are this." He pushed the pager across the desk, along with a small white square. "Previously I asked you to keep an eye on the people around Dib to keep them from harming him. Continue to do that, but I also want you to focus on Dib himself. I discovered that he escaped you two yesterday to try and meet one of his old beaus, but he was unsuccessful. If he starts to exhibit suggestive behavior towards anyone, especially adult males, you are to inform me immediately." He tapped the pager pointedly. "It is very important that he be kept far, far away from anything of that sort, even if he is the instigator. I will give you everything you need to contain him but he _must_ be contained. Do I make myself clear?"

Whyatt frowned, clearly apprehensive of the new restrictions. But Mikill merely nodded, solemn. "Crystal, sir."

•⚡•

Professor Membrane tried to remain at the Labs for as long as he could, but he couldn't find a viable reason to stay after a few hours of wandering and surveying the numerous projects progressing smoothly. He ran into Amanda, who had taken up the torch in his absence, and happily babbled to him about the various divisions' success before being called off to look over something else. 

Things were...fine.

Having no new projects himself, or even an idea of one to start, Professor Membrane was forced to go home or remain wandering the halls looking like a lost fool. Once he'd pulled into his driveway, he let his forehead hit the steering wheel and groaned, faintly overwrought. 

Absence equalled diaster. Or, at least, that was what he once thought. Perhaps it wasn't as true as he had believed.

Sighing deeply, the Professor turned off the car and slipped out to go inside, head buzzing irritably as restlessness plucked at his nerves. He needed to do _something_ today, or he'd lose his mind. That useless hunk of soldered metal in his basement lab mocked him through the walls, prodding at him in the same way his aimless surveillance at the Labs had. His hands fidgeted by his sides, gloves creaking as he swept into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He hated coffee, but be was undoubtedly exhausted and refused to go back to sleep. It was too dangerous a venture to consider at this point.

Sipping slowly at his coffee, he stared out the kitchen window and watched cars trundle by out of the corner of his eye. The trees behind their house rustled with a small breeze, a squirrel or two darting between them. It was almost alarmingly peaceful. It put him on edge.

Setting his coffee mug down, Professor Membrane grabbed the entire pot by the handle and turned to walk back down into the basement, only to find that he had forgotten to turn off the computer before he left. Dib's lockscreen was still plastered over it, the small white notification in the center reading '**Continue advanced security protocols?**'

Professor Membrane pursed his lips, sitting the coffee pot down on his desk next to the keyboard. He hardly registered making the concious decision to click the affirmative button, but once he had, he couldn't bring himself to back out of it. What else would he find out through the little spy he'd planted in Dib's pocket? What other facet of his son would emerge when he was not around to hinder it? Would it be as bad as the last two discoveries? Would he discover anything at all?

He didn't know. But he was about to. 

Clicking the option to turn the camera off--that one would give him away if he wasn't careful--Professor Membrane held his breath as the speakers came to life.

There was a loud thud, and then a door slamming with a shouted, _"And **stay** out!"_

_"Ha!"_

__That was Dib, laughter barking and caustic. He sounded...odd. Like someone had hollowed out his chest with a melon baller. 

_"Stupid bitch,"_ he spat, a rustling noise followed by footsteps telling the Professor that Dib had climbed to his feet. Had he fallen? The Professor frowned. And where did he learn all those swear words? _"Still nothing, huh?"_ came the second, quieter mutter, obviously not meant to be heard.

There was nothing but echoing footsteps for a moment, before boots squeaked and they stopped. Dib chuckled, dark.

_"Ah, c'mon, I actually have to go this time. This is the first time since you guys showed up that I've had my coffee."_

There was an unyielding pause. Dib hummed.

_"Fair enough. Guess I'll just piss in the trash can."_

Another squeak of boots on linoleum, and a shuffle of fabric near the wherever the phone was placed. A tense moment of silence passed, before he heard Mikill speak.

_"Go."_

_"Thank you."_

Professor Membrane leaned back and scrubbed a hand over his face. Surely Dib wouldn't try the same trick twice. He was smarter than that. So what was he doing? 

Several scenarios ran through his head as he heard the familiar sound of his own tech activating and Dib giving a scoff of incredulity. He zoned out for a moment, lost in his thoughts as he tried to figure out what Dib stood to gain from attempting the same thing twice. When he focused back in on the spyware, Dib was midsentence.

_"--had something I needed to take care of. But it was shitty of me to bail on you like that, I know."_

_"You almost got me fired."_

_"Yeah, seems to be a recent talent of mine...Well, in any case, I **am** sorry. Any way I could make it up to you?"_

_"You could stay where you're supposed to."_

Professor Membrane's eyes sharpened on the screen, and he clicked the option for the camera despite his original hesitation. He cursed under his breath when all it showed him was the inside of Dib's trenchcoat pocket. The way Dib was speaking was cause for alarm, surely, but never once in his endeavor to keep Dib from doing something else foolish did he think that Dib would go for one of his guards.

_"Done, I'll stay with you. Anything else?"_

These pauses were getting increasingly worrying.

_"What'd you have in mind, kid?"_

_"I think you know."_

_"And if I do?"_

_"Well then, I think we could work something out. A mutually beneficial agreement. Yeah?"_

_"...Not here."_

Hysteria welled up in the Professor's chest as he buried his face in his hands. "_Damn_ it," he snarled against his gloves. He slammed his fist down into the keyboard, sending the spyware stuttering off and swirling the screen to black. He'd had one too many horrid discoveries on the wretched thing. He wouldn't be turning it back on.

As hot, fizzling anger clawed at his chest, Professor Membrane decided that it was time for a different approach. This, whatever he was trying to do, obviously wasn't working.

Snatching the pager out of his pocket, the Professor clicked it on and waited for a moment. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Baring his teeth, he shut it off and stuffed it back into his pocket, sweeping back upstairs with an impulsive flair to his steps. He stormed into the living room and began to pace feverishly across the floor.

He should have known. Should have guessed. He felt foolish for having even considered that Dib would change his behavior with so little incentive, that he wouldn't be as stubborn about it as he'd been with every other facet of their arguments. A different approach was needed. Dib's little friend's words floated back to him, murmuring of compromises. Professor Membrane batted them away aggressively. 

He was not the one in the wrong here.

The Professor paced and paced and paced, until his legs threatened to give out beneath him. He sat down roughly on the couch, struggling to calm himself down, and waited. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there when the door opened and he heard footsteps come towards the living room. Dib stepped into the room and froze at the sight of him.

"_Sit_," Professor Membrane hissed.

Dib's hands went white-knuckled on his bag, and he swallowed. His eyes immediately grew guarded, tense. "I'm good."

"It wasn't a question."

"It didn't sound like one."

Professor Membrane bit back the furious noise that threatened to erupt from his throat, the strained, icy calm he'd managed to maintain beforehand rapidly fading. He clenched his jaw when Dib slung his bag down next to the armchair and leaned defiantly against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

Whatever reluctance or hesitation the Professor had felt about his decision before abruptly ceased to exist.

"What did I do this time?" Dib drawled, irritated.

"Do you know," Professor Membrane began with a calm he certainly did not feel. "What I asked your guards to report to me, specifically?" Dib's brow furrowed, but he didn't answer. The Professor continued, "I asked them to tell me if anyone bothered you at school, or made you feel uncomfortable. But I also tasked them with making sure that if you looked like you were about to do something foolish again, that they would let me know immediately."

"None of my teachers have done anything wrong, dad! Not since you got James _fired_! And I haven't--" Dib began, rolling his eyes, only for the Professor to snap and cut him off, tone colder than it had ever been with either of his children.

"Mikill is married, Dib."

Dib's mouth snapped shut, eyes wide and caught. Then his lips pulled back to bare his teeth in a sneer, turning his gaze to the ground to hiss, "Oh, that fucking _snitch_."

Professor Membrane's anger ratcheted up a notch. Did his son have no shame? No regret? "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

Dib dug his fingers into his own arm and glared hotly at him from across the room. "What else am I supposed to say--that I'm sorry? I'm not. You really want me to lie to you? To tell you that I won't do it again? Because I will. You have absolutely _no _say in who I have sex with!"

Indignance flaring, the Professor got to his feet, fists clenched. "You are not allowed to have sex with men who are twice your age and in a position of authority over you! I am your father and what I say goes!"

"Or _what_?" Dib seethed, voice dripping with challenge, eyes sparking up at the Professor as if to dare him to meet it.

Oh, and he _would_.

Forcing himself to relax, Professor Membrane sat back down and continued in as steady a voice as he could manage. "I didn't want to have to do this. This was a solution I have always tried to avoid. But nothing else is getting through to you. You've left me no choice. Come here, Dib."

Dib's eyes widened, bravado vanishing as realization dawned over his face. He took a step back. "What...what for?"

"Obviously trying to talk to you like a rational adult isn't working. Monitoring you isn't working, and you're far too stubborn for any sort of grounding or restrictions to work. So I'm afraid that you've left me with only one other avenue of punishment. Now come here."

"You, I mean, you're not--" Dib started, tongue tied. He stepped back again. "You're not _serious,_" He shrilled incredulously.

"If I have to make you, I'll have to double it. As of now, it's only ten," Professor Membrane stated sternly.

Dib's cheeks flushed faintly, outraged. "What the _hell_\--"

"Fifteen, for swearing," the Professor uttered, feeling vindictive. "Come here Dib. I won't tell you again."

"I'm not going to--!"

"One."

"Are you seriously fucking _counting--_?"

"Two."

"DAD!"

"Three."

Dib was clinging to the doorway at that point, and when Foodio appeared behind him to pick him up and toss him into the couch, he ended up taking some of the plaster with him. Instinctively curling his hands around Dib's wrists, the Professor knew Dib was seconds away from fleeing entirely and bracketed him in so he couldn't attempt it. Dib immediately began to squirm, only to freeze when Professor Membrane tightened his hold.

"W-wait, dad, _wait_\--"

"It's only thirty. You could have kept it at fifteen had you listened to me the first time."

Dib wriggled again where he was pinned, and something in the Professor's gut writhed in kind. "Th-This is insane! You can't seriously--_wait_\--!"

Gloved fingers tangled in denim belt loops and yanked, Dib squawking in wide-eyed alarm as his struggles to free himself renewed. A trill of unease slithered through the Professor's stomach, hesitation slinking back into his limbs.

It was far too late to back out, but was this truly the only course of action left? Was he really going to...?

"Okay--OKAY! I get it, I-I won't do it again! Just quit messing around!" Dib blurted out desperately, face pale.

Professor Membrane froze. Did Dib honestly just say that? Right after he'd proclaimed the opposite? Did he think the Professor was stupid?

_You really want me to lie to you? To tell you that I won't do it again?_

"Five more, for lying to me," he said lowly as he jerked the navy colored briefs down as well, the elastic snapping into the dip of Dib's thighs and making him jump. Truly, his children must think him a fool. Someone to be humored and then immediately disregarded. Well, no longer.

"I-I'm not," came the weak rebuttal. _Again_ with the lying. "Okay, I know what I said, but dad, it isn't that big of a--"

He'd cracked a hand across the swells of flesh in front of him before he'd realized what he was doing, cutting off the rest of Dib's sentence. Bewildered amber eyes blinked rapidly at the cushion below him, stunned. When the Professor lifted his hand again, there was a red mark stained over the curve of Dib's hindquarters.

It stood out rather prettily against his olive skin. 

Shaking his head slightly to dislodge the thought, Professor Membrane brought his hand down again. The sound was sharp in the otherwise quiet room, and the flesh under his palm was giving in a way that drew attention to the fact that Dib had plenty of it to hit. _Stop that_. Professor Membrane forced his mind away from the vestiges of his earlier dream that had cropped up at the thought, and began to count aloud. He feared he'd end up losing track and overdo it.

Though it had to hurt, Dib didn't make a sound, instead clawing his fingers into the couch and biting his lip. A sharp cry chirped out of his lips on the third, blush stained up to his ears and down to his shoulders. Something bubbled in the Professor's abdomen, hazing over his thoughts even as he struggled to squash it.

It only grew worse when on the next strike, Dib let out a noise that he really shouldn't have and curved his hips down away from the pain, pushing an unmistakable line of heat into the Professor's thigh. He was hard. Eyes flashing abruptly down to Dib's face showed him scarlet and panicked, hands digging into the fabric of the couch so hard that it was beginning to tear. It was clear he was aware of the situation, though it appeared to be involuntary. The position was most likely reminiscent of another, more sexual setting Dib had experienced.

It only served to remind Professor Membrane of the fact that other men had spanked his son's ass red before he had gotten the chance.

Valiantly ignoring both the spark of rage that bolted through him at the thought, and the problem brewing below his own belt, he continued to count through shaky, strained breaths. He was content to ignore both of their issues--could do nothing _but_ ignore it.

"Six...seven...eight..."

He could feel Dib's hips jolt and stutter beneath his hands, obviously trying to both escape the Professor's punishing hands and refrain from grinding down onto his thigh. Dib rubbed his face across the cushion and keened pitifully into it, pained. The flesh of his ass was a solid crimson by the time Professor Membrane hit ten, a few welting up with darker bruises. He had a sudden, vivid vision of taking handfuls of the plush cheeks and kneading, just to see if Dib would shriek like he had in the video the Professor had found, push his hips up and squirm in his grasp. He could do it.

He could grab Dib's hips, hoist him up, scrub that battered ass down against his--

A strangled sob croaked out of Dib's lips, tears streaking down his flushed cheeks. Professor Membrane stopped, one hand still resting on the heated skin of Dib's ass.

What was he doing? What was he _doing_?

He smoothed his thumb absently over a darkening welt with a harsh swallow, hating the way he admired the slow return to red after he'd pressed in a stripe of white. He'd made Dib _cry_. Dib never cried.

'_What am I doing?_'

Ice poured down Professor Membrane's spine as he hastily grasped Dib's jeans and pulled them up to cover his handiwork. He grasped Dib by the waist, took a wild second to refrain from pulling him in closer, and set him on his feet. Dib teetered, disoriented and glasses fogged and crooked. The Professor steadied him, then snatched his hands back like he'd been burned. Then, rough and hollow, he uttered, "Go to your room."

Dib didn't need to be told twice. He fled the room, forgetting his bag in his haste to get up the stairs. To get away from Professor Membrane. 

Fisting his hands in his lab coat, the Professor stared blankly at his lap for a long time. When he blinked back to reality, he'd stood and was making his way to the bathroom. He slammed into his bedroom, kicked the door shut to the bathroom and stumbled into the shower, stripping clumsily as he went. Flipping the handle all the way over to cold, he half-heartedly jerked the curtain into place and grit his teeth as icy water spilled over his back. His skin flared up with goosebumps, but the chill did little to chase away the burn still pressed into his thighs and hanging heavy in his cock. 

The water slid along his scalp and made him shiver, cowlick soaking quickly to droop forward with the weight of it. Professor Membrane pressed his metal fingers into the shower tile so hard it shattered beneath them. He wasn't going to do it again. He refused to touch himself with the sensation of Dib over his knee still imprinted into his skin.

He stared miserably down at the floor and watched broken ceramic swirl down the drain.

•⚡•

_"You just don't get it, do you, Zim? We lied to you to get rid of you. We hate you. You're a joke!"_

_"...Still not getting it, huh?"_

_"Maybe we should **show** him, Red."_

_"What is it, Zim? I thought you liked us! Don't you want to please your Tallest? Let everyone see how **great** you are?"_

_"Get rid of the damn robot! Its screaming is giving me a headache."_

_"And Zim's aren't?"_

_"No, I actually enjoy it when it sounds like this."_

_"What--hey! Who are you? HEY! STOP!"_

_"Get back here with him! We're not done teaching him a lesson yet!"_

_"Ah, let them go. Maybe Zim will be too embarrassed to show his face on the Massive again."_

_"**He is your Tallest, Dib.**"_

Dib bolted upright in bed with a gasp, heart pounding and head spinning. He clutched at his skull and grit his teeth, sweat beading on his temples and shoulders. It made him shiver.

"Fuck," He croaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come bother me [over here](https://grimalkinmessor.tumblr.com) for updates on this monstrosity 🖤


End file.
